


Every Inch of My Love

by fikkifini



Category: Free!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Band Fic, Bassist Sousuke, Brief Mention of Daddy Kinks, Chef Nanase Haruka, Drummer Rei, Drunk Night Out, Eventual Nanase Haruka/Tachibana Makoto, Eventual Smut, Fanboy Haru, First Kiss, Gangs, Guitarist Rin, Hangover Haru, I forgot he has a dayjob, I'll add more tags as I write each one, It's literally just a plot device, M/M, Makoharu is the real main focus here okay, Makorin brotp, Makoto has piercings, Masturbation, Mentions of Crossdressing, Mentions of Dealing, Multiple Pov, Nagisa and Gou are band managers, Past swimmers Nanase Haruka and Matsuoka Rin, Rin and Makoto are morning people, Singer Makoto, Slow Build, Strong Language, also Makoto is a little younger than everyone else but only by like 2 years, also if you didn't catch it from the Led Zeppelin in the title, because these boys are out of control, just all in the same universe, music fic, no none of them are addicts okay calm down, the fic rating will absolutely be changing, this is more of a drabble series
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-09
Updated: 2017-09-18
Packaged: 2018-09-16 02:14:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 30,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9269189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fikkifini/pseuds/fikkifini
Summary: Haru happens to be long time best friends with Matsuoka Rin, the guitarist and leader of the up and coming rock band Silver Lining Dreamer. Luckily for Haru, that also means he gets the chance to spend time with Japan's hottest bachelor and most talented singer, Tachibana Makoto, by association.





	1. Dazed and Confused

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt from keepleaves: boyband AU where Rin keeps picking on Haru for keeping tabs on Rin's band but specifically watching all the Makoto parts, WHICH HE THOUGHT HE WAS DOING IN SECRET
> 
> This went more in the direction of the conversation we had about this au after I was sent the prompt, a.k.a. Haru invites over the band to spend more time with Makoto but forgets to hide some very important details in his room before they get there. Also for future reference if I continue with this au: since Makoto is my talented son he sings lead vocals and plays second guitar (not for every song but most), Rinrin is lead guitar, Sousuke is bass, and I want my precious star Rei to be on drums because sometimes turbonerds have to let loose too. Also Nagisa & Gou as managers/PR. 
> 
> p.s. I'm naming every chapter after famous rock songs that have something to do with each chapter so enjoy and if you don't recognize them please give them a listen <3

A groan of pure exhaustion escaped from the mound of blankets that concealed a curled up, disheveled Nanase Haruka in his bed, prompted by the incessant ringing of his cell phone which had been going off approximately every five minutes for the past hour. Whoever was calling him could fuck off, Haru concluded as he rolled as far away from his nightstand where the ringing was coming from, pressing two pillows against his ears to ward off the noise and protect his pounding temples from a worse headache. Honestly, it was a Saturday morning. What business did anyone have calling him at this hour? The restaurant wasn’t even open yet, so it’s not like his boss could be trying to reach him. It was probably just a prank, he determined, battling off the queasiness in his stomach that inevitably came after a night of drinking with friends. After another few seconds, the ringing stopped again, allowing Haru to resume his (not so) peaceful morning snooze.

Despite his awful hangover and how it made his entire body ache, Haru chose not to dwell on that and instead continued to fantasize where the wonderful dream he had been roused from left off: the moment when the soft, supple pink lips of his idol and the very man he adored were about to press against his, relishing in the spiced scent of whiskey and a cigarette on his breath that couldn’t have possibly smelled more alluring, except for when combined with the musky cologne that lingered on his skin after a long night of performing. Haru hummed a little, remembering how those green eyes, the same ones that had mesmerized him in his sleep, had left him feeling dazed and practically brain-dead every time they had locked with his in the damp atmosphere of the club they were at last night.

Somehow, by some fortunate curse, Haru had found himself hanging out with his boyband idol and the rest of his group more and more often lately, thanks to the fact that one of his long-time best friends, Rin, was the band’s guitar player and leader. Growing up and all throughout college, Haru had watched his red-headed friend play musical chairs with bands all over town, constantly complaining about the management, the members, anything and everything one could think of as a reason to quit a band. Unimpressed by his lacking success and experience, Haru had always assumed that Rin would eventually give up on his rockstar dreams and settle for a regular job, like the rest of the regular people in his life, and maybe one day have one of those cheap has-been Dad Bands in his garage when he was older and less ambitious. That case had been seeming more and more likely after they finished school and both settled permanently in Tokyo as roommates- that is, until Rin met Tachibana Makoto at a piano bar one night.

Tall, tan, and handsome with a gentle bad-boy aura and several piercings, Makoto’s charisma- and not to mention is incredible singing talent- no doubt could lead a band to fame with a little work and refinement, which Haru’s friend would have no problem mustering the energy for. Rin had no qualms about approaching the young man, at the time only twenty and a recent drop out, insisting they form a band together so that Makoto could get paid for his own gigs rather than giving away free shows at whatever bar would take him. It didn’t take long, after a few smaller venues had hired them for a set on the weekends, for other musicians to begin approaching them, seeking the same kind of hopeful future that only someone like Tachibana Makoto could offer to them. Suddenly, before Haru could even put together what kind of luck Rin had come across, his best friend was skyrocketing to fame as the leader of a full-fledged boyband, their green-eyed poster boy becoming their main attraction quickly.

It wasn’t until their first concert as an official band, titled Silver Lining Dreamer thanks to Rin’s ever sappy and romantic mind, that Haru finally gave in to his friend’s pleas to come see them now that they were a thing for sure. Begrudgingly, since he hated nightlife and would prefer to be at the local pool where no one swam near closing time, Haru went to offer his support for the same guy who had given his while Haru had struggled to establish his own career as a chef. And although Haru would never admit it to anyone, not even Rin, he knows that concert marked the night that he fell in love with someone he could never have.

In only a few months, with the combination of Makoto’s vocals and Rin’s songwriting genius (he really knew how to write a ballad, Haru had to admit), the band’s popularity had spread all throughout Tokyo and now to other regions of Japan, and they came out with their first album on the anniversary of the day Rin asked Makoto to join him. Haru only knew these tiny details because he was a supportive, caring, and attentive friend, which meant he had become somewhat of a fanboy of the group over time. Not entirely by choice, considering the amount of time he spent with Rin, but he had come to learn quite a bit about what was admittedly now his favorite group, especially when it came to Makoto.

Once their climb to fame began though, Haru found his hopes of somehow attracting the lead singer slowly dissipating into just childish fantasies as Makoto’s attention and affection rose above his own modest reach.

It was hard to believe only a month had passed since the album release, and already the boys of Silver Lining Dreamer were being invited to all kinds of prestigious events not just to perform, but to party as well. Rin, feeling guilty for finally moving out since he could afford his own place now, often invited Haru to these events as his “plus one” (his real date was usually their already invited bass player, Sousuke), but it wasn’t until last night that Haru finally agreed to go with.

Truthfully, it was the thought of spending an evening in a hot, dimly lit nightclub with none other than Tachibana Makoto that had driven Haru to give in. Rin was pretty intuitive when it came to crushes and frequently tried to use Makoto as incentive to draw Haru out of his lonely apartment. It usually didn’t work that well, since Haru knew it was too optimistic for him to even pretend Makoto cared that he was around, but this time Rin had _insisted_ that Makoto wanted to see him.

“Haru I swear to God he _said it to me. To my face._ ” Rin had groaned earlier that evening at Haru’s apartment, his exasperation at his stubbornness hitting its limit.

“I don’t believe you,” the raven had shrugged dismissively as he finished plating the mackerel he had made himself for dinner.

Sighing, Rin’s face fell into his hands, “This is why it’s hopeless. Because _you_ make it hopeless.”

“I’m not making it anything. He doesn’t even know I exist-”

“He _asked me_ if you were coming out with us tonight.” Rin began his typical impression of Makoto talking, excessively sweet and high-pitched- and incredibly inaccurate. “He said, ‘So, did you invite your old roommate to come out tonight again?’ and I said, ‘Yeah, but I doubt he’ll say yes.’ Because you _literally never do._ And then Makoto said, I kid youfuckingnot, ‘Oh, that’s too bad. I don’t know him very well, but it would be nice to spend some time with him and really talk to your best friend!’”

Haru had paused, chopsticks in mid reach for a hefty slice of fish. Makoto wanted to spend time with _him?_ There was no way.

“Haru, look at me,” Rin asserted, hands poised on his hips. The raven obeyed uneasily. “He said _–chan_ after your name. HE DOESN’T EVEN KNOW YOU AND HE SAID IT HARU-”

“Okay, jesus fuck calm down,” Haru urged, concealing most of his excitement. He looked down at his meal, playing with the food on his place before meekly sighing, “I’ll go if you’ll stop screaming in my ear about it, okay?”

Rin launched a fist in the air, whooping his satisfaction loud enough to make Haru consider taking back what he had said. “Fuck yeah Haru. You’re getting laid tonight, you better believe it. I’m the ultimate matchmaker, just watch!”

If the huge, cold, empty space next to Haru now was any indicator, it was pretty safe to say that Rin had failed. Miserably.

He really didn’t remember much of the night aside from fleeting moments, choosing to get drunk enough with Rin at his friend’s apartment that he wouldn’t feel like backing out when the time came to leave. What he does remember is standing dizzily in the middle of a crowd of people, watching an angel sing onstage with just an acoustic guitar and a heart-stopping smile on his lips. And he remembers that same angel later, pushing his way to where Haru had taken refuge next to the bar, sipping straight something at that point, and sliding behind him to order a drink for himself, all the while a warm hand rested on Haru’s lower back as the angel kindly excused his reach over him.

And then he remembers dancing briefly, and remembers that he tried to talk to the angel for real, to prove that he wasn’t just Rin’s tag-along roommate crashing the party. He doesn’t know what he said, but he does recall the feeling of that handsome angel leaning in and saying _something_ in his ear, Haru didn’t quite know what though.

And there was that loud, incessant ringing again, pulling Haru’s concentration away just as he thought he might be able to decipher some kind of message from Makoto in his memories.

“Oh come on,” he whined into the pillows, voice gruff with sleep and fatigue. Knowing any chance of going back to bed was lost, he rolled back over to the nightstand and felt around haphazardly for his phone, just barely catching it as it nearly slid off the wood.

“Hello?” He grumbled, far from pleasant as he answered the call without checking the ID.

“Hey fishsticks. Were you sleeping still?” Rin teased, sounding way too refreshed even after the night they had.

Knowing he would just get made fun of even more if he admitted it, Haru lied. “No, I just don’t feel well.”

“Ha, yeah go figure after how much you drank last night. Who thought you’d be a bourbon guy?”

Haru paused at that. “I was?”

“Yeah, you were sipping it like water,” Rin jested, the amusement in his voice pretty obvious. “Even I was impressed.”

“Huh,” Haru muttered, wondering if there was anyone else who was specifically impressed with him too.

“Anyway,” Rin continued, “Makoto and I are on our way over now. What kind of coffee do you want? We stopped on the way,” he added nonchalantly, as if he _didn’t_ just say he was coming over with the very man Haru was having a wet dream about an hour earlier.

“H-hold on, you and- _who??”_ Haru choked, sitting bolt upright in bed. His stomach retaliated against the movement, giving an uneasy churn that made him belch slightly.

“Oh fuck. Do you not remember? Holy shit… I can’t-” Rin started to laugh.

Haru, meanwhile, started to panic, feeling his whole face heat up. “What?? Not remember what, Rin _what the fuck did I say?_ ”

The redhead on the other end of the line was practically howling, his giddiness thoroughly pissing Haru off. “Oh ho ho, well I’ll stall as much as I can for you Haru, but I really don’t think it will be enough time to shave _everything_.” Clearly the words were intended for Makoto to hear and just to make Haru’s blood boil even more.

“Rin I swear to _God-_ ” Haru began, but stopped at the sound of a familiar voice, muffled in the background.

“Is he alright? I wonder if he forgot that he invited me over,” Makoto sounded adorably concerned, which Haru would have been flattered by had he not just found out what was actually going on. “I don’t want to be intrusive, Rin,” he added a little more clearly, but Haru could practically hear his best friend waving off the comment.

“Nah, he’ll be ready in no time. Right, Haru?”

“I fucking hate you,” was all the reply he gave back, muttered as he slid out of bed and hurried to the bathroom to brush his teeth.

“See you in fifteen,” Rin snickered before the line went dead.

As if showering, dressing, and scrambling to clean up anything that was out of place wasn’t already enough to do in the time he had, Haru caught sight of a much, much worse problem on the walls as he rushed back into his room ten minutes later, hair barely dried off in his rush.

See, earlier when he had mentioned being a fanboy… well, that was actually quite an understatement. As in Haru not only owned a surprising amount of clothing and merchandise of his favorite band, as well as knew a shocking amount of trivia about them, but he had also accumulated a relatively large collection of their posters, which were taped all over his bedroom walls. Now, perhaps if Makoto saw this, he would just find it flattering that Haru was such a loyal fan. However, Haru didn’t _just_ have the posters stuck up there normally. No, in fact his childish crush had led him to folding them carefully so that each one only showed his idol (and sometimes Rin, if he wanted to be nice). Put simply, his room was decorated with not just one, but twelve posters of Tachibana Makoto.

And _that_ was certainly a problem.

Scrambling to get them off the walls before his guests arrived, Haru did his best to carefully but quickly peel them off one by one without tearing any, and soon found himself running around his room with an overflowing armful of Makoto, although not in the way he would have hopefully imagined. It was also at that moment when Haru heard his doorbell ring, causing him to panic and shove the posters under his bed as far back as possible. Luckily, he had gotten them all in time, and as he readjusted the loose t-shirt he was wearing to look less frazzled, he did his best to steady his breath before opening the door.

The first thing he saw should have been Rin, standing front and center with his hands on his hips, a smug grin on his face as he greeted, “Well, look at Sleeping Beauty. Awake after all, huh?”

However, it was the sight of warm, green eyes and a pleased but polite smile that caught his full attention, just over Rin’s shoulder. “Uh- Hey,” he greeted back distantly, more at Makoto than anyone else.

“Hi, Nanase-san! Sorry for the intrusion,” the handsome brunet waved shyly as he held a tray of coffees in the other hand.

“It’s no problem.” _Nope_ , Haru thought as he eyed Makoto’s flattering v-neck and tight jeans, _no problem at all_. “Y-you can call me Haru, by the way.”

Rin was already brushing past his friend, muttering a slightly annoyed, “What are we gonna stand out here on the porch and stare at each other for another twenty minutes?” But Haru was hardly bothered by it as he gestured for Makoto to follow, closing the door behind them.

“So this is where you used to live, Rin?” Makoto glanced around as he slid his shoes off. Haru couldn’t tell if he should have been offended by the question or not. If it were any other person saying it, it probably would have sounded a lot more judgmental.

“Heh, yeah. That’s my room over there,” the redhead pointed to the door off to the left of the small kitchen. “Haru was an ass and took the bigger one when we moved in.”

“You offered me it so I could put my art supplies somewhere,” he countered, arms crossed over his chest.

Rin stuck his tongue out in return. “Sorry, that didn’t sound like, ‘Thank you best friend for thinking of my needs before your own’.”

Makoto seemed to enjoy the banter, chuckling at their childish argument. “I can’t imagine the shouting matches you two must have had living together.”

“Oh no,” Rin clarified, “Haru doesn’t shout. He just stares at you with that look that’s like I’m-going-to-let-you-talk-until-you-realize-how-stupid-you-sound that makes you feel like a complete idiot, and that’s usually what ended any fights.”

Laughing even harder now, Makoto gave Haru a bright smile that made his heart drop like a dumbbell right into his stomach. “You’re probably the only person who can tame Rin that easily, huh?”

Haru just shrugged, “If you play dead he gives up pretty quickly.”

“Yeah Haru, you’re real good at playing dead. It explains that constant lifeless look twinkling in your eyes,” Rin smirked with false flattery, punching Haru in the shoulder. “Anyway, I’m starving. You gonna make us breakfast like you promised?”

“I promised that too?”

Rin smacked his palm to his forehead. “Christ, you really were gone last night.

Makoto looked nervously between them for a moment, scratching the back of his blushing red neck. “L-look Rin, I don’t want to be a bother if he didn’t mean to invite us over-”

“Nonsense!” Rin declared before Haru could even attempt to agree. “Haru would be _honored_ to host us. And make us breakfast that _isn’t_ just mackerel.”

“Hope you like eggs then,” he sighed, defeated, and turned on his heels towards the kitchen.

“Thanks best friend,” Rin smiled at him sweetly, barring shark teeth and all. “I’ll give Makoto the grand tour while you cook. Is your room safe? All your crazy sex toys put away?”

“Shut up.”

Rin leaned over to Makoto, whispering deliberately loud enough for Haru to still hear and blush furiously at, “They say he holds the world record for Largest Dildo Collection.”

Makoto shook his head with a sigh, “You know, maybe I should just be friends with Haru. Then maybe I wouldn't hear the word ‘dildo’ twenty times a day anymore.”

Rin scoffed, “Yeah, you’d just be _seeing_ them twenty times a day then.”

“Not true,” Haru called from the kitchen, shutting the fridge after grabbing a carton of eggs. “I’d hide them better than that. Especially if I actually liked my roommate.”

“See,” Rin pointed out to Makoto as he lead him in the direction of Haru’s room, “he’s just as bad as me.”

“That’s because your toxic sense of humor spreads to anyone you come in contact with,” Makoto poked his side as they disappeared into the doorway. A different kind of heat flashed through Haru’s body, annoyed at how comfortable Rin and Makoto were with each other. Enough that they could casually touch each other like that. Rin was the kind of person who made affection in friendships easy, but Haru knew if he and Makoto were ever friends, there was a slim chance they’d ever be that close with one another. And that would be entirely his own fault.

Rin’s bickering mixed with Makoto’s gentle laughter became muffled, and Haru tried to steady his still anxious heartbeat by focusing on the food frying on the stove, carefully putting together a vegetable omelet for his friend.

“Rin,” he called from the kitchen once it was done and plated, “What kind of omelet does Makoto want?”

He waited for a reply, but seconds passed and he heard nothing. “Rin?” He tried again, but this time was only met with the sounds of choking laughter.

“H-haru, you fucking _idiot_ I’m gonna cry-” he heard the redhead hooting from the other room, followed by Makoto’s more hushed voice.

“ _Rin,_ shut up, I don’t want him to be embarrassed- just act like you didn’t see it!”

Rin gave another boisterous laugh. “I’m sorry- I can’t. I just can’t it’s too funny, I have to give him shit for it.”

“Give me shit for _what?”_ Haru was now standing in the doorway, arms folded over his chest and entirely un-amused. He honestly had no idea what could have been so funny in his room, nor what Makoto thought would embarrass him-

“I- pfft, I think you missed a spot, Haru,” Rin snorted as he pointed to the ceiling above Haru’s bed, where he had somehow failed to notice that a _massive_ poster of a shirtless, lip biting Makoto was still taped.

Rin was on the floor now, pounding his fist into the ground as he choked on his own glee. Meanwhile, poor Makoto looked helpless, his entire face pink as he shifted uncomfortably, nervously scratching at his cheek.

Hands covering his mouth, Haru was horrified yet unable to look away from Makoto’s expression. Was he mad? Was he grossed out? Fuck, Haru couldn’t tell. He certainly looked just about as embarrassed as Haru must have, but other than that he couldn’t read his expression at all.

“I- I’m sorry, it’s- I meant to-“ Haru tried to explain through his palms, but words were escaping him as it became clear that there really was no way to talk himself out of it.

“Shit Haru, I knew you were a fan,” the redhead wheezed, “but I thought it was just for my own sake, not ‘cuz of a stupid crush!”

“Rin!”

Haru felt choked suddenly, the sound of Makoto raising his voice jolting both him and Rin into stunned silence. “Don’t be so mean,” he huffed, gentler but still adamant. He turned his gaze to Haru, a shy but determined look on his face as his blush settled onto the peaks of his cheeks. “Haru, I think it’s sweet. And I’m very flattered. So don’t feel embarrassed, okay?”

Unable to speak, Haru simply nodded, wide-eyed and still hiding in his hands.

Panting slightly from his fit of laughter, Rin stumbled onto his feet, looking between Makoto and Haru with suspicious eyes for an uncomfortably long silence.

“I see.” He said ominously, a thoughtful finger on his chin. Suddenly his usual disposition was back, and he was waltzing out of the room with a shrug before either of the other men could stop him. “I’ll give you two a minute then,” he waved and strolled into the kitchen, complaining loudly about Haru almost burning his breakfast.

Makoto seemed not to notice, glancing back up at the poster on the ceiling for a second before turning his attention back to Haru, who remained frozen like a statue in place. “So,” he shoved his hands into his back pockets, “is that true? What Rin said?”

Haru spoke against his better judgment. “W-what part?”

The brunet wandered closer but couldn’t help looking away as a small smile spread on his lips. “About you, um, having a crush or something…”

“Oh, that…” Haru finally let his hands drop, settling for clutching his own arm instead. “I… um, I wouldn’t say _crush,_ b-but…”

Makoto grinned a little wider, reaching out and placing a comforting hand on Haru’s shoulder. “You don’t have to say any more, if you don’t want to.” Haru’s mind was short-circuiting anyway, unable to really think of anything except for the fact that Makoto was touching him, of his own accord. Like they were friends, just like he and Rin were.

“I…” he swallowed, determined to at least say something that could express to Makoto how much he meant to him. “I really ah… um, admire you.”

Makoto’s lips parted into a little ‘o’. “You do?”

Haru looked down at his feet, his bashfulness taking control again. “Nn.”

“Well, Haru,” Makoto squeezed his shoulder reassuringly, “I admire you too.”

“You don’t have to lie to make me feel better,” the raven huffed.

“I’m not lying. You do a lot of things I can’t do. At least, that’s what I’ve heard from Rin,” he corrects. “Like you put up with his sour attitudes, and you can paint pretty well, he said. And that you’re the best cook he knows!” He added with a smirk, “I can’t cook for shit, so you’re better than me by default anyway.”

Haru’s attention was suddenly drawn to the thumb rubbing his shoulder gently, shocked by how comfortable Makoto seemed to be around him.

“Oh- sorry,” Makoto caught his stare and withdrew his hand quickly, leaving Haru longing for that comfort again, “I get a little handsy sometimes with my friends. I forget personal space is a thing,” he laughed meekly.

“It’s okay,” Haru said, distracted more by Makoto’s use of the word ‘friend’ just then. Were they friends then? Did that mean Makoto really wasn’t entirely creeped out by Haru having a poster of him hanging over his bed?

“Ah, we should probably go out there,” He glanced over Haru’s shoulder into the hall, hearing a clatter from the kitchen. “Rin’s probably gonna think we were making out or something. Can’t keep his mind clean for the life of him,” he joked.

“Yeah, what a crazy idea that would be,” Haru agreed, already lost in the fantasy of Makoto throwing him onto the bed and sticking his tongue down his throat. He moved to leave, stopping just as he passed Haru, who was still having trouble making his feet work.

“Um, by the way,” Makoto added, his voice dropped lower as if he really didn’t want Rin to hear this time, “you promised me a few other things besides just breakfast last night. But I swear I wont tell him what you said, just to spare you his teasing.”

There’s no way. Could this kind of hell really exist on earth?

“I… w-w-wait, Makoto what did I say?!” Haru tried not to let his voice rise, afraid Rin might hear, but the taller man was already striding out into the hall, tossing Haru a friendly smile over his shoulder.

“Don’t worry about it, Haru-chan!” He insisted casually, a wink following after. Haru was certain his heart might have stopped dead right then and there.

“Worry about what?” He could hear Rin begging to know from the other room as Makoto disappeared into the kitchen. Insisting it was nothing to be concerned about, Makoto changed the subject to teasing Rin about where he and Sousuke had snuck off to last night instead. Clutching his chest weakly, Haru remained in the middle of his room, mortified yet unable to stop the awed smile the spread across his lips.

Despite all the embarrassments already, he had a feeling this was about to become a friendship that would be full of surprises.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Check out my [makoharu blog](http://tachinanabananase.tumblr.com/) as well as my [personal blog](http://fikkifini.tumblr.com/) on tumblr! <3


	2. 8675309

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haru gets a welcomed surprise while working a late shift at the restaurant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So you all know my inability to hold back from writing smut? Well, basically I tried to write a second chapter two days ago and without me even meaning to it turned raunchy as all hell. So then I had to stop myself from posting that and write some shorter, tamer things to post instead. I have trouble writing just friendshippy things clearly. Anyway, it's not super intense or anything, but I hope you enjoy the flirting and a peek into Haru's regular life :) (Haru's such a good cook he works at a four or five star restaurant such amaze very wow). Also this chapter was a good excuse to introduce the rest of the band, which I figured should happen eventually.

Haru was just fifteen minutes away from ending his shift at the restaurant that night. It was nearly eleven, and the kitchen staff was about ready to close. He finished plating another order of his very own special that night, a smoked mackerel recipe that he came up with, before wiping his hands on his apron, a relieved sigh passing through his lips.

The last waitress that came in said that would probably be it for the night, and Haru was more than happy to start the final clean-up in the kitchen. He began to put away some of the washed utensils and pots while a few of the other chefs pulled out mops to clean the floors, all of them feeling the tension of the dinner rush earlier finally leaking out from their shoulders while they fell into their nightly routine.

The doors out into the dining room opened then, one of the waitresses, Kanako, poking her head in meekly.

“Um, Nanase-san.”

Haru looked up from where he was sorting different utensils in a drawer. “Yes?”

“A party of six just walked in. They wanted to order dinner,” she broke the news gently, fully expecting the series of groans from Haru’s co-workers as they all grumbled their frustration.

Haru checked the clock. Technically, they were still serving and couldn’t turn the customers away. “That’s fine,” he agreed half-heartedly, then turned to the other chefs in the room. “If we all work together it will get done quickly, and then I’ll let you all go early.”

“Really, Nanase-san?” One of the younger chefs asked hopefully.

“Nn. I’ll finish cleaning up.”

With the end in sight, the other chefs returned back to their stations a little more cheerily than before and prepared for the oncoming orders, which Kanako had left to get. She was back in a few minutes, handing Haru the ticket with a knowing grin.

“They all wanted to try your special, Nanase-san. One of them said they had heard you were the best chef in town,” she sang.

“Oh, that’s…” Haru was a little lost for words. Such high praise usually left him uncomfortable.

“You should be honored! I bet you’ll be opening up your own restaurant in no time.” She leaned in closer before whispering playfully, “Don’t worry, I won’t tell the manager.”

He gave her a kind smile at that and nodded his silent thanks. Soon the kitchen was at full steam ahead, chopping away at vegetables for the side orders and leaving Haru to do most of fish preparation. He would have guessed they had beaten some record by the time they had six plates completed, the team working efficiently to get it all done. Haru sent out the orders and then released his other workers shortly after, thanking them for their hard work. A few offered to stay and help clean, but he insisted he could handle it. After all, they hadn’t dirtied that many dishes in their rush.

Kanako returned some time later, while he was scrubbing away at pans, a smug grin on her face that Haru recognized as a sign that something was up out in the dining room.

“Kitchen’s officially closed,” she announced nonchalantly, leaning against one of the counters with her hands behind her. Her long, black hair was twisted into an elegant bun on her head, which Haru thought made her look somewhat like a model, showing off her lengthy neck and sea green eyes. Eyes that often reminded him of someone else.

“Good tips tonight?” He asked offhandedly. He liked Kanako, she was always attentive and hardworking, so he didn’t mind having friendly conversation when it was just them left at the restaurant this late.

She sighed dismally. “Not as good as I had hoped. But I guess I shouldn’t complain. A few more weekend shifts and I should have enough to finally take those classes I’ve been saving for.”

Ah, that’s right. Haru had forgotten that she had been one of the girls there hoping to be an actor. It always amused him how true that stigma seemed to be, since a handful of the waitstaff all seemed to have the same goal in mind.

“That’s good. You’ll get there soon enough,” he supplied, although he wondered if it was actually that helpful hearing.

“Thanks, Nanase-san. You know, one of the guys out there said he was a talent manager or something,” she said hopefully.

“Really?”

“Yeah, he’s with a couple of his clients. One of them is so cute~” She stopped suddenly, covering her mouth with a laugh. “Oh, sorry. I… probably shouldn’t say stuff like that at work!”

Haru shrugged, not really caring either way as he dried off a couple frying pans. “What’s he look like?”

Kanako squealed a little bit before continuing, biting her lip as her cheeks flushed. “He’s just… I don’t know. Brown hair, green eyes, nothing special sounding when you say it out loud,” she clarified. “But _gosh_ , he has an amazing smile. And he’s really nice, says thank you every three seconds practically.”

Haru found himself imagining someone else of a similar description while he nodded absently, a little lost as his mind began to fill in the missing information. _Three piercings on his right ear, two on his left, perfectly full lips, olive skin and such a handsome, strong jawline…_

“Do you… do you think I should ask for his number?” Kanako asked shyly, breaking Haru from his daze.

“Why not?” He couldn’t see what could really go wrong, aside from the guy saying no. Although he sounded like the type that was so polite, he’d give it to her anyway. “You’re a pretty girl, I think he’d be happy to give it to you,” he added, watching as Kanako blushed harder at that.

“Aw, Nanase-san! You’re just saying that,” she smiled widely, and Haru found it hard to believe she was having any trouble finding a job on the big screen.

“Go ask. And let me know what he says,” he encouraged. Kanako nodded with determination as she headed back out into the restaurant to print the checks for the table.

He was nearly finished with the nightly chores when she returned a few minutes later, a strange expression on her face. She didn’t look disappointed, but she certainly looked like she had something on the tip of her tongue.

“Well?”

She shook her head, “I didn’t have time to ask. The moment I got to their table, they immediately requested to speak to the chef.”

Haru raised a brow at that. “Me?”

“Yeah,” she claimed, “they asked if you could go out there.”

Wiping off his hands a last time, Haru removed his apron and did his best to brush out any wrinkles in his chef’s jacket. “Okay, I’ll see what’s up.”

She nodded, a little nervousness in her gaze as he walked past.

“Don’t worry, if something’s wrong I’ll handle it,” he added kindly. She was probably concerned that something went wrong with the meal. It wasn’t often that people asked to speak directly to the chef, and if something hadn’t been right, he was prepared to take full credit for it.

When he spotted the table of six at the back corner of the restaurant, lit dimly by the atmospheric lighting, he immediately recognized a familiar ponytail of red hair, Rin’s back to him as a smile crept onto his lips.

“Oh, there he is!” Haru heard the enthusiastic cheer of Rin’s blonde haired, pink-eyed band manager, Hazuki Nagisa.

Suddenly the entire table of people was turning to see, waving and calling his name eagerly. It seemed like the whole band was there: the dark haired, stern looking Sousuke sitting next to Rin, and to Nagisa’s left sat their drummer Rei, pushing his red glasses up his nose despite his friendly smile. Even Rin’s sister, Gou, who managed their public relations, was there. Although he was excited to see all of them, and shocked to say the least, his gaze fell last on the cheery grin and kind eyes of Makoto, who was shyly waving to Haru as well.

“Come here, champ!” Rin was getting out of his chair now, enthusiastically hugging him as he came over. The raven tensed at first from the contact, but eventually relaxed and gave Rin a friendly few pats on the back in return. “Didn’t I tell you guys? Best chef in Tokyo!”

“Don’t be dumb, Rin,” he tried to deny it, but everyone else was already agreeing. “What are you guys doing here?”

Rin shoved his hands into his pockets, looking modest despite his shark-toothed smile. “Oh, we were just in the neighborhood after a show and happened to be starving. Heard there was an awesome chef here so we figured we’d try it.”

“Sorry for keeping you guys open late,” Sousuke offered politely, but not quite smiling at him. “Rin didn’t give us a choice.”

“Don’t say it like that! You make it sound like it wasn’t _totally_ worth it!”

The bassist sighed, admitting unwillingly it seemed, “It was pretty good, okay?”

“Haruka-senpai, I was very impressed by the impeccable quality and beautiful presentation of your meal,” Rei said earnestly then, which earned him a slap on the back from Nagisa.

“What he means is, it was delicious Haru-chan! And Rei usually _hates_ mackerel,” he whispered not-so-quietly.

“N-nagisa! Don’t just say that to him, it’s so rude,” the blue haired man chided.

“It’s okay,” Rin assured, throwing an arm around his friend proudly. “Haru’s got a thick skin. He can take it.”

Gou spoke up then, praising him with unexpected gusto. “Seriously Haru, that meal was amazing. Rin gave us some pretty high expectations, but you certainly surpassed them.”

“Thanks, Gou. And it’s good to see you again,” he added. She nodded her agreement with a smile. Haru hadn’t seen her around at events as much as he used to, probably due to her new relationship that Rin had begrudgingly mentioned recently.

“So, Haru,” his attention was suddenly drawn back to Makoto, who had been patiently waiting with a hand on his cheek as he leaned against the table. “What would you say to maybe giving me some cooking lessons? I could stand to learn a few tips from you,” he grinned.

Haru stammered for a moment, unsure if it was a joke or a sincere question.

“A _few_? Makoto, you could stand to learn how to actually turn on the stove, just for starters,” Rin shot him a look.

Makoto laughed uneasily. “Okay, probably a lot of tips then.” His gaze shifted back at Haru expectantly, waiting for an answer.

“W-wait. For real?”

The brunet chuckled, “Yeah. I really suck. I’d offer to prove it to you, but I don’t want to risk giving you food poisoning.”

Haru swallowed thickly before responding. “I-I mean, my kitchen is really small, but-”

Makoto was suddenly interjecting, concern in his brow. “Oh- no, no, Haru. I wouldn’t impose on your home. You can teach me at my house,” he offered.

“He has a gourmet kitchen that never got broken in,” Rin added.

Well, gourmet kitchens _were_ Haru’s weakness, after all.

“Okay,” he agreed with a simple nod.

Nagisa was suddenly cheering, reaching over the table and past Rei’s lap to grab Makoto’s wrist. “Mako-chan, you have to let me try your food once you’re a Master Chef like Haru-chan!”

“Nagisa, I’m not sure I’ll get _that_ good,” he patted the blonde’s hand, but was met with a sour pout instead.

“Well not with _that_ attitude, you wont!”

“Don’t worry,” Haru interjected bravely, “I’ll uh, whip him into shape just for you,” he tried to smile, but his embarrassment got the better of him. Even though he had met Nagisa several times, even had drinks with him at one of the more recent shows he’d been to, he still had trouble relating to the blonde’s electric personality at times.

Rin started snickering at his phrasing then, which led to Sousuke shooting him a disappointed glare and punching the redhead in the arm. Haru had to admit that even if he and Sousuke didn’t get along well, he could plainly sense the chemistry between him and his best friend. He flinched at the thought, grateful he wasn't in the band and forced to witness their groping hands and suggestive gazes more often.

Makoto seemed to blush a little from the implication as well, but continued anyway in a voice that was calm enough. “How do Thursday nights work for you, Haru?”

Surprised that Makoto had picked one of his consistent days off, he agreed easily. “Yeah, that’s perfect. I don’t work Thursdays.”

“Great! Oh and, thanks for the meal tonight. It really was amazing,” he assured.

“Y-you’re welcome,” Haru said simply. “All of you, actually. Thank you for coming.”

“Any time, Haru-chan!” Nagisa insisted.

“Yes, Haruka-senpai. If you’re cooking, I’d love to try plenty of other things on the menu.”

His joy now bubbling up inside him, Haru felt his heart swell from the compliments. He wasn’t used to getting so much reassurance in general, and not to mention from a band that he idolized for each member’s own incredible talent.

“Alright, let’s get out of Haru’s hair. We’re keeping him here past closing,” Rin suggested, stretching his arms over his head with a yawn. “I’m exhausted after that concert anyway.”

“I’ll bring you your checks back,” he offered, turning back to the till where Kanako was now watching with that same knowing look on her face.

“You didn’t tell me you were friends with a talent agent, Haru,” she teased when he got to her, eyeing the table once more before whispering to him. “Not to mention that many hot people either!”

“Rin’s my childhood friend,” he shrugged, grabbing the individual checkbooks as she offered them to him.

“Are any of them single?” She interrogated. “Or even better, are they looking to hire?”

Haru huffed through his nose, a noise that Kanako recognized as his version of a laugh. “Not really. Rin and Sousuke are sort of together,” he pointed each one out as he mentioned their names. “And I think so are Nagisa and Rei, but I’m not sure. Gou has a boyfriend too-”

“What about the brown haired guy?” She asked eagerly.

“Oh, him? Uh,” Haru found himself torn. Makoto was single, after all, and by no means did he have any right to deny him a date. Yet the selfish part of him that sought Makoto’s attention for himself was tearing away at his good conscience.

“Yeah, I can ask for you,” he agreed, although the disappointment was not lost in his voice.

Kanako let out another excited shriek, but much quieter than before to avoid attracting the table’s attention. “Ohhh, thank you, thank you, thank you Nanase-san! You’re the best,” she grabbed his arm excitedly.

“No problem.”

Haru took the checks back over to the table with a little less excitement than he had before.

“Thanks again for coming,” he handed Rin the books so they could figure out whose was whose on their own. “It… means a lot to me.”

Rin gave him a more private smile, squeezing Haru’s shoulder reassuringly. “I’m proud of you, Haru. I know I get caught up in this whole band thing sometimes and you think I forget about you, but you’re really important to me, okay?”

“I know.” He wished he could say more, but affectionate words like that came easier to his best friend than himself.

“Oh and… Makoto was really impressed, by the way,” Rin continued only for Haru to hear, trying to sound casual but his suggestive intentions betraying him. “He couldn’t stop raving about you the whole meal.” He did his terrible Makoto impression again. “Oh, Haru-chan is so talented! Haru-chan cooks so good! I wish Haru-chan would cook for me _every day_!”

“Shut up,” he whacked his friend’s arm, subtle enough that no one else noticed amid Nagisa insisting they go out to a bar for more drinks.

Everyone was already standing, a few of them shrugging into light jackets as they started saying their goodbyes to Haru. Nagisa led the pack out, grabbing Rei by the wrist and pulling him towards the door, eager to find their next drinking destination. Rin gave him a quick hug goodbye, followed by a quiet nod from Sousuke. Haru barely found the strength to stop Makoto after he passed by with a gentle wave.

“Um, M-Makoto wait.”

The brunet turned, his brow raised with curiosity. “What is it, Haru-chan?”

Haru looked down at his feet, choking on the words. _You’re asking for someone else. There’s no reason to be embarrassed. Just ask him._ “C-can I get your phone number?”

Makoto’s eyes rounded for a moment before a striking but humble smile spread on his lips. “Oh, Haru-chan… I didn’t know-”

“It’s for my coworker,” he practically spit out in his haste, face heating with nerves. “K-kanako, over by the till. She…” he couldn’t bare to look at Makoto’s face, torn between his own shoes and the waitress across the room. “She asked me if I could get your phone number. For her.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah. She, um. She thinks you’re cute, I guess.”

“Okay. Do you have a piece of paper?”

Haru patted his pants pockets, but only his phone and wallet were in there. The napkins on the table were cloth, so those weren’t an option either. “Um, no I don’t. I could go get some receipt paper though-”

Makoto stopped him by the elbow, his warm grip firm but kind still. “Oh, I know! Do you have you phone on you?”

Haru stopped at that, looking up with a question on his lips but unable to speak. He nodded dumbly instead.

“Here, I’ll just put it into your phone. Then you can give it to your friend later- you know, um. If you want.”

“Oh… okay.” He pulled his phone out, handing it to Makoto and trying to keep his excitement under control. The brunet entered his number quietly, his fingers tapping away methodically as he filled in his contact information. The moment didn’t last long, but Haru enjoyed the weird kind of comfort between them while it was happening.

“Alright, all done,” Makoto concluded with a final tap on the screen. He handed the phone back to Haru just as Rin yelled for him to hurry up. “I’ll see you later, Haru-chan. Oh! And don’t forget to text me so I can put you into my phone too,” he added.

“Alright. Bye, Makoto.”

“Bye, Haru-chan. Text me about Thursday, okay?”

“Okay, I will,” he held back another huff of a laugh.

“Promise?” Makoto winked. Haru felt his cheeks turn red almost instantly at that.

“Yeah,” he agreed with a resigned smile, adding it to the list of things he’d have try to remember he owed Makoto. “I promise.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, we'll see how those cooking lessons go...
> 
> Thank you for reading! Check out my [makoharu blog](http://tachinanabananase.tumblr.com/) as well as my [personal blog](http://fikkifini.tumblr.com/) on tumblr! <3


	3. You're As Cold As Ice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How many rockstars does it take to bake a cake? Probably more than just one really incompetent one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little bit of fluff that popped into my head while I was showering this morning. Hope you all enjoy some Mamakoto taking care of Haru!

“Okay, Makoto. Go ahead.”

“Um, okay. C-can you help? I’m a little scared.”

“Yes, just- just put it in slowly… There, good…”

“… L-like this, Haru-chan?”

“Yeah, that’s really good. Just be c-careful- Ah, ow!”

“Oh no! Haru, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m f-fine. It just… hurts.”

“Do you want me to take it out?”

Makoto was already reaching back into the stainless steel oven with one mitted hand, pulling halfway out the pan they had just placed in there together.

“No, just leave it. Be sure to set the timer though.” He huffed, and Makoto obeyed with a quiet nod, unable to take his eyes off the red mark that was now forming on the top of Haru’s hand while he set the clock.

“That looks bad,” he winced as Haru turned and stuck the wound under the faucet, running cold water over it and seeming unfazed. Shuffling over to his side in shame, Makoto leaned against granite countertops, gnawing the inside of his cheek with worry while he watched.

“Happens all the time. I should have worn the other mitt.”

Makoto felt even worse at that. There he was, two oven mitts protecting his hands, and yet he still had to ask for Haru’s help to put their cake in the oven. Could he be more pathetic?

“Haru… I’m really sorry. That was my fault- I should have just done it on my own,” he apologized hastily, unsure of how else to help at this point. He’d never treated a burn before, but it seemed like Haru really knew what he was doing.

“It’s fine. Can you get me some ice?” The raven said offhandedly. Makoto hurried to the freezer on the other side of the kitchen and broke a cube from the ice tray, trying not to let it drip on the floor as he made his way back to Haru.

“Here, give me your hand.”

“It’s okay, Makoto. I can do it-”

“No,” the brunet insisted firmly, his motherly instincts in full throttle as he took Haru by the wrist. “It’s my fault, so let me take care of it.”

Pouting in a way that Makoto thought was rather cute, Haru surrendered with a displeased huff.

He held the ice cube directly over the burn for a few seconds, then slowly began rubbing it around the irritated area, glancing up at Haru through his bangs all the while, searching for any signs of pain in his face.

“Does that feel better?”

“Nn,” Haru agreed, casting his gaze to the floor and deliberately not at Makoto. _He must be mad,_ the brunet mused, his own brow creasing with concern.

“You know,” he supplied after a long silence, “I still feel bad that you’re giving me these lessons for free.”

The scoff Haru let out was soft enough to not hurt his feelings. “Using this kitchen is enough for me.”

Makoto watched with an odd sense of pride as Haru's eyes lingered on the expensive appliances and expansive counterspace around them. He wasn't usually one wave his money in other's faces, opting for an apartment much more modest than he could have afforded since the album release, but if his overly-decked out kitchen could make Haru twitch with excitement and his eyes dance like a blue pilot flame, then hell- Makoto would buy the guy a five star restaurant to cook in just to see that look on his face more often.

“Are you sure? There has to be something I could give you in return,” he grinned, feeling hopeful as Haru chanced a glance back up at him. They were awfully close like this, and through his grip Makoto could feel Haru’s strong and steady pulse in his wrist. Their shared proximity made Makoto’s cheeks warm, but he figured it was just from his adrenaline after getting so worried suddenly. Haru was undoubtedly the most beautiful boy he had ever seen, but… he wasn’t really sure why his stomach twisted in knots whenever he saw him, or why it made him giddy to be alone in his kitchen together like this. Makoto had felt some kinds of butterflies around girls before- back when he was still in college and frequently exposed to... _intimate_ interactions. But for all the times he had been alone with his roommate in his dorm, or when he was changing in the locker room at the gym next to his friends, he’d never been bothered _this_ feeling. This stomach turning, sweat-inducing, light-headed feeling that he got any time he was alone with Nanase Haruka.

“No, it’s fine,” Haru said again, his timid voice luring Makoto’s attention back to him. “I like giving lessons.”

“Oh, you do?”

Haru gave a silent nod, his sapphire gaze carefully trained on where the ice had nearly melted entirely onto his wound. Makoto had a sudden spark of genius, certain this was an offer Haru couldn’t refuse. Not to mention it would mean they could spend more time alone together if he accepted.

“Well, what if I gave you lessons in return?”

The raven blinked that, curious, but his usual placid face nearly concealed his interest. “Lessons?”

“Yeah!” He encouraged in his excitement at the prospect of teaching Haru something. “I don’t know as many things as you do, but I could give you voice lessons, or I could teach you to play an instrument if you want? I know some people get really shy about singing, but I could definitely teach you something else if you’d like!” He rambled, overeager for a response. Haru seemed lost for a moment, his eyes a little wide with shock and his pink lips parted. Makoto couldn't help but stare at their plushness, memories of that hazy, drunken night flooding his mind. If only... god, if only he could feel those lips again, once more just to see if-

“Piano,” Haru interjected then, jerking him out of his thoughts. Makoto recognized a familiar kind of determination in his eyes that he normally only saw in Rin’s fiery gaze.

“You want to learn piano?”

“Yes,” he said with just as much strength.

That same nauseous feeling that he couldn’t seem to get enough of around Haru crept up into Makoto's throat. He grinned widely. “Okay! It’s a deal, Haru-chan.”

“S-stop that.”

“Stop what?” Makoto asked, not noticing that it was just his fingers now rubbing soothing circles into Haru’s skin, the ice completely melted.

“The –chan,” he sighed, slipping his hand away from Makoto and turning to grab a paper towel to wipe away the dampness. “Technically, I’m your senpai, since I’m older.”

“Alright, Haru- _senpai.”_

Haru’s entire face went red at that, and Makoto was almost certain he saw him cringe. “N-nevermind. Just call me Haru, alright?”

Makoto couldn’t help but giggle, finding his reaction entirely adorable. “Okay, Haru. But you know, since I’m giving you lessons now, doesn’t that make me your senpai as well?”

“D-don’t be dumb,” the raven grumbled before turning his head away. “Now can you please get me a bandage?”

“Sure thing, Haru-senpai…” Makoto snickered as he hurried away, just barely dodging the roll of paper towels that was hurled after him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ha, got you there for a second, didn't I? It's okay, just writing that beginning part got me a little hot thinking about how WARM THE KITCHEN MUST BE FROM THE OVEN BEING OPEN GET YOUR MIND OUT OF THE GUTTER YIKES.
> 
> Lol okay anyway hope you liked it (bc I'm still laughing at what I named the chapter tbh) and keep reading! My parents are gonna be gone this weekend so I'll probably be writing a lot, plus I have a few ideas in mind for Haru's lessons too ;) Comments and kudos always appreciated!
> 
> Check out my [makoharu blog](http://tachinanabananase.tumblr.com/) as well as my [personal blog](http://fikkifini.tumblr.com/) on tumblr! <3


	4. Maybe I'm Amazed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haru might not have the patience it takes to learn piano, let alone the patience to spend this much time with Makoto and not make a move still.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay don't worry friends we're gonna see the band in action soon enough! It's been pretty domestic from the start, but quite some time has passed by this point and the band is starting to get nationally popular, so they're going to be playing some big shows soon! 
> 
> Also, for your own reading pleasure, please imagine Makoto is playing Maybe I'm Amazed by Paul McCartney (a.k.a. why this chapter is titled the way it is).

Haru let out another frustrated huff, resisting the urge to pound his fist into the ivory keys under his fingers.

“Here, try to spread your fingers, like this,” Makoto sets his own hand at the octave above Haru’s on the grande piano in his living room, reminding him of the proper placement. “When you reach for an F, use your thumb again, not your ring finger.”

This was Haru’s third piano lesson and they were _still_ working on scales, which was certainly hampering his confidence. Makoto had assured him that it was nothing to worry about, since practicing scales was apparently something he would be doing every day from now on, but it still annoyed him every time he messed up.

“Can’t we skip the scales today?” Haru carped, trying to not sound entirely like he was whining.

Makoto shook his head with a chuckle. “No, Haru. I told you if you want to learn, you have to do fifteen minutes of scales every day.”

Haru only grumbled in response.

“Have you been practicing at home?” The brunet, sounding suspiciously like an elementary school teacher with eternal patience.

“… No.”

“Haruuu,” he scolded lightly.

“Okay, not _every_ day, no. But… twice, usually,” he admitted, glancing to his right for a reaction.

Although Makoto’s gentle gaze could never be hurtful, Haru certainly felt a twinge of guilt from the look he was being given now.

“Alright,” Haru finally conceded, placing his hands back on the keys. “Is this right?”

“Yep. Now run through your Major scales.”

Haru went through each one carefully, this time painstakingly focused to assure he got the strokes of his fingers right. Makoto sat on the bench beside him, quietly observing and nodding his approval every so often, his comforting warmth pressing into Haru’s side. It was a feeling Haru had quickly come to savor after only their first hour of music lessons together, enjoying the lingering smell of spices on Makoto's clothes from the dinner they had cooked earlier in the evening. Their Thursday night cooking lessons had been conveniently merged with Haru’s piano ones, which meant recently the two had been spending several hours alone together each week- and that didn’t even include the times Haru would go out, which was becoming increasingly more frequent. At first, his anxiousness made him worried that Makoto would tire of him if they saw one another so often. However, after the initial series of encouraging texts from the singer insisting they do both lessons in one evening, most of Haru’s doubt had vanished.

_It will be fun! We can cook and then make some music together :D_

Haru had been squirming beneath his duvet at that phrasing, already tucked into bed while they texted late into the night. This had _also_ become an increasingly common occurrence since the start of their cooking lessons.

 

_You sure? Now I’m the one imposing._

_I’m certain, Haru-chan! Just don’t tell Rin, he might think I’m trying to steal you from him and get jealous_ _（＾ｖ＾）_

 

He wasn’t sure if he had just been over-analyzing or being hopeful, but Makoto had definitely made it sound like he was actually excited to spend more time together. He gave a simple _Okay_ as a reply, not wanting to sound overeager, but received a reply within the minute.

 

_Can’t wait. And I almost forgot- we have another show this weekend, it would be great if you came to watch! I’ll buy you a drink for your troubles (b^_^)b_

 

But really, how could he have said no to a free drink?

Once finished and positive he had done his scales correctly, he looked up at his teacher expectantly, waiting for his next orders while subduing the pleased feeling in his chest.

“You messed up G flat,” Makoto snickered behind his hand, sandy brown locks falling into his eyes. Haru could practically feel his shoulders sinking to the ground as his confidence seeped out of him. “Go back to that one again.”

Haru let out a dramatic sigh but did as he was told, starting to play without waiting for Makoto’s instruction.

“Hold on, it’s there,” the brunet stopped him by the wrist. He covered Haru’s hand with his own, lining up their fingers over the keys. Unable to stop himself, Haru glanced up with his heart lodged in his throat, but Makoto was too concentrated on his instructions to even notice. “When you move from B flat to C flat, you have to use your thumb, like this…” He demonstrated, using his own fingers to guide Haru’s with a gentle pressure.

“O-oh. What was I doing?”

“You used your pinky. That’s at the end, remember?”

Haru swallowed heavily, feeling the back of his neck heat. “Um… can you show me again?”

“Sure,” Makoto gave him a reassuring smile, never bothered by having to teach Haru something more than once. “Here, follow with my fingers…” Makoto guided him up and down the entire scale twice more with graceful ease, the pattern engrained in his long, agile fingers from years of practice. “See?”

Haru gave a weak nod, his mouth suddenly feeling dry as Makoto’s hand stayed on his, fingertips trailing down to his wrist after a few moments.

“You’re a little stiff, Haru. Try relaxing.” He slid off of the bench and was suddenly reaching around him, skimming his hand up the back of Haru’s forearm. “When you tense your whole arm, it makes your wrist go stiff too.” He started massaging his muscles with his fingers, voice low near Haru’s ear. “You want everything to be flowing. Your wrists should be up but not tense, almost like there’s a string attached from them to the ceiling, barely holding them up. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah. Um, like this?” Haru bent at the wrists, poising his hands over the keys again.

“Perfect! Just like that, Haru. Nice and flowing,” Makoto encouraged, letting go of his arm and leaving Haru missing the warmth. “Geez, you already look like you have the hands of a piano player,” he lamented with a bit of jealousy as he pulled away from his shoulder, returning to his seat on the bench.

“What does that mean?” The raven arched a brow, the teasing in his voice hardly recognizable.

Makoto shrugged, trying to find the words to describe it as he spaced out across his modestly decorated yet impressively large living room. Haru followed his stare to the expanse of windows along the wall, giving them a twinkling view of Tokyo's inky skyline. “You know, like. Fingers that are… very _long_ and _talented_ and...”

Haru couldn’t help the snort of laughter that left him. “Long and talented?”

Makoto gave him a disbelieving look before letting out a resigned laugh himself. “You really are as bad as Rin sometimes.”

“I’m offended by that,” he pouted, although to anyone else’s ear he would have sounded entirely unaffected.

“Okay, maybe not _that_ bad,” Makoto allowed with a skeptical side glance, “but worse than I expected from you.”

That piqued Haru’s interest, the piano before him and his poised wrists practically forgotten. “What were you expecting?”

Makoto shrugged again, although this time it was with less nonchalance. “I’m not sure. The way Rin put it, you always sounded like the… I dunno, the stoic type, I guess.”

Funny, it wasn’t like he’d never heard that one before. “You don’t think so?”

“Well,” he giggled, “I do, yeah. But you’re also funny.”

Okay, he actually _hadn’t_ heard that one.

“Really?”

“In a quiet kind of way, yeah,” Makoto nodded. "You never fight others to make the loudest joke in the room, but that doesn't mean you're not just as fun to be around." He started to pluck at the keys distractedly, humming softly to each note in tune. Haru didn’t mind the silence that fell upon them, much more keen to listen to Makoto play than hear his own clunky attempts. He had never seen someone look more natural in front of such a sophisticated instrument, taking on the elegant posture as if it were embedded into his bones from the day Makoto was born. His shoulders arhced back yet loose, his spine aligned perfectly with his narrow hips. Haru’s gaze settled onto Makoto’s face, where pink and slightly chapped lips fell into a parted sort of daze, his emerald eyes losing their focus as they drifted shut. Before long his left hand joined the other on the piano, falling into sync with the rolling melody his right had slowly built, and Haru found himself suddenly surrounded in the sweet music being made by the very hands of the man he was slowly falling deeper in love with.

“Sorry,” Makoto stopped short, as if snapped from a trance, and chuckled lightly. “You’re supposed to be practicing, not me.”

“Ah, right,” Haru breathed, resuming scales without hesitation, feeling a surge of motivation after hearing such beautiful music. He wanted to reach that point, to be able to play and even impress Makoto with his progress, to sit on the bench beside him and create a melody just as mesmerizing for him one day.

“Good job, Haru! You're already doing better. No mistakes that time,” he grinned.

Feeling a surge of confidence and ready to move on to the next step, Haru asked anxiously, “So I can start learning songs now, right?”

The bark of laughter that left Makoto’s mouth was certainly not a promising sign. “Ah, Haru. You know what the opposite of the word ‘major’ is?”

“Um… minor, right?” He said wearily.

Makoto gave him a sheepish smile. “Right. So that means that if there’s a Major scale…” he trailed off.

“No,” Haru groaned miserably.

“ _Yes._ So now we move on to Minor scales!”

Despite his frustration at the lack of forward progress, Haru couldn’t complain much more after that. It was hard to be upset when Makoto kept placing his fingers over his own every time he messed up one of the new scales. Even if it was on purpose sometimes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm heading back to school tomorrow so chances are I won't be able to post as often (this is going to be the semester from hell tbh), so you can keep tabs on my progress whenever I post it on my [makoharu blog](http://tachinanabananase.tumblr.com/) You can also send me requests for this au on there too :D


	5. Can't Fight This Feeling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Makoto makes everyone else suffer with him as he struggles to figure out his sexuality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you want to know some of the songs on the setlist/want to fantasize about Makoto singing these songs to Haru:  
> Do I Wanna Know- Arctic Monkeys  
> End of All Days- 30 Seconds to Mars  
> Harder to Breathe- Maroon 5 (expect a later drabble on just how good Makoto's Maroon 5 impression is)  
> Madness- Muse  
> Feel Like Makin' Love- Bad Company  
> Shiver- Coldplay  
> Your Body is A Wonderland- John Mayer (Makoto does this one for his acoustic number)
> 
> There are some other songs that I left out mostly because I plan to use their titles as other chapters, but some of these might even reappear later, who knows tbh. Anyway I guess we're starting to get a sense of the band's genre now since I can only use songs that already exist as reference. But I guess we can pretend like they covered these songs in between their most popular tracks if you'd like. 
> 
> Also unrelated but important: IMAGINE MAKOTO SINGING A MILLION REASONS ON THE PIANO. I bet he would do such a good job. That song would sound so sexy sung by a man too (although no one can do it better than Gaga lbr)

“ _Fuck_ ,” Rin puffed as he dragged himself off the stage, the burn of the lights that were scorching him from above making his exhaustion even worse. Though the set wasn’t any longer than usual, this night’s performance was particularly tiring. He felt himself wobbling slightly while he ambled backstage, finding a stand to set his guitar down on.

A hand was suddenly behind him, steadying him at his lower back. “Hey,” Sousuke said softly, private enough that only Rin noticed, “you alright?”

“Yeah, just…” Rin glanced over his shoulder, ensuring that no one else was eavesdropping. “What was with that set tonight? It was like-” he gestured something with his hands, but Sousuke only furrowed his brow in response. “I mean, did you _see_ Makoto?”

The taller man shrugged, unobservant as ever. “Um, yeah? What about him?”

Rin’s scowl was a sight to behold. “Sou. He was practically humping the mic stand. He _took his shirt off_.”

“Oh,” he snorted his amusement, “ _that.”_

“Yeah, that. What’s with him?”

“Not sure,” Sousuke touched a thoughtful finger to his lips. “You think he’s just…?”

“Pent up? Sure seems like it. That set he picked was practically a sex playlist,” Rin lowered his voice to an urgent whisper. “Like. Every. Single. One. Was about hooking up or fucking or just being sexually frustrated as shit.” Rin got even closer, stopping as the very subject of their conversation passed the two of them with a tired wave, wiping away the sweat dripping down his forehead as searched for a new water bottle. They waited for him to disappear before speaking again. “Seriously Sou, he was like, eyefucking the shit out of the audience. He looked over at me at one point and I felt _violated_.”

Ever the calming presence, Sousuke remained unconcerned. “Well, maybe he just needs to get laid.”

“No kidding. Did you notice the pronoun thing though?”

“No?”

Rin felt his patience slipping slowly. As much as he cared about Sousuke, and no matter how many times he forgave his boyfriend for being utterly blind to _everything_ important, he still couldn’t help how fucking annoyed it made him sometimes. “He was changing the words in some of the songs. Like saying ‘he’ instead of ‘she’.”

That seemed to surprise Sousuke more than the previous information. “Really? I was uh, kinda caught up in the music so I didn’t hear.”

“Uh, yes really.” Rin couldn’t help the tingle of hopeful sparks igniting inside of him. Contrary to popular belief, the prospect of Rin's best friend getting laid was almost just as exciting to him as getting laid himself. Almost. “Do you think… you know?” He gave another paranoid glance over his shoulder before continuing. “I know he said he liked Haru, like in the friend way, but do you think it’s actually going there?” 

“Dunno,” Sousuke seemed intrigued, but in that kind of Sousuke way that made him still sound relatively indifferent. “He’s only ever talked about dating women to me.”

Wrinkling his nose at the new information, Rin knew it wasn’t a good sign. To his bafflement, over time Sousuke had slowly become Makoto’s confidant, despite the redhead’s persistent efforts to be closer with him too (he was a jealous friend, alright?). In the end, he had concluded that there must be some sort of weirdo, sacred bond between boys who frequently hit their heads on low-hanging objects from the ceiling and gave up on trying to figure out exactly why the two had become so close. More importantly though, this meant that if Sousuke didn’t know something about Makoto, then either there was nothing to know or Makoto was deliberately hiding it from _everyone_.

The two began to wander down a hall back to the dressing rooms, keeping their voices low in case the singer appeared again.

“I think you should try talking to him,” Rin finally concluded after several seconds of chewing his lip in thought.

Sousuke simply raised a doubtful brow at him.

"I'm not young like I used to be, Sou. I can't handle any more shows like this," he whined.

"You drink Red Bulls for breakfast, Rin. I've  _seen_ it," Sousuke pointed out, unmoved by his boyfriend's argument.

"Because I've been  _driven to desperation_. This is a matter of my health, babe," Rin batted his lightly mascaraed eyelashes, ineffective still on his stoic partner. "My poor heart can't take watching them pining when it's so stupid obvious they want each other!"

Ignoring Rin's dramatic monologue, Sousuke tugged thoughtfully at the corded bracelet around his wrist. "I wouldn't know what to say to him."

“Oh come on, it’s not that hard. Just – I don’t know, ask him how the lessons are going? Say you’ve noticed they’ve been spending a lot of time together.” Rin then added mockingly, “Or just be like, ‘Hey, I saw you eyefuckin’ the shit out of Nanase the last time he came to our show. Seemed pretty gay to me, amirite? What’s with that?’ and see if he totally freaks out.”

“I don’t think he’ll answer me if I go with that,” Sousuke reminded him patiently.

“I know. I just want to see him sweat.”

Rolling his eyes with a sense of finality, Sousuke stopped his boyfriend a few doors away from Makoto’s dressing room. “Look, I’ll go in there now and just ask if he’s doing all right. But I doubt if there’s something wrong that it has anything to do with Nanase.” He threw a look behind himself once more, checking to assure no one was listening still. “I don’t know if you know this, but he’s pretty… _inexperienced,_ in general. He’s probably just horny and he messed up the words on accident or something.”

Rin gave his boyfriend a critical look. “You know, you’re pretty skeptical for someone who literally _ate my ass_ for breakfast.”

Expecting his boyfriend to scold him for his bluntness, Rin was pleasantly shocked as comforting fingers laced into his and he caught a fond expression in Sousuke’s turquoise eyes.

“Yes, I did. But that’s because I love _your_ ass specifically. Not any guy’s ass, you know?” Rin felt his ruby eyes widen at the response, understanding Sousuke’s concern. “I’m just saying that he might not even know what he wants himself. We shouldn’t assume anything yet.”

Pouting his annoyance at Sousuke _always_ having to be right, Rin conceded with a sigh. He perked up onto his toes to give his too-perfect-for-his-own-good boyfriend a quick kiss, followed by two more on each cheek.

“I hate how diplomatic you are sometimes.”

Sousuke gave him a helpless shrug, “Not all of us can be as hotheaded as you. Imagine what the world would be like then. Yikes,” he teased, not missing how it made Rin frown cutely.

“Whatever, just go talk to him okay? Text me when you find out what his deal is.”

“Will do.”

Rin kissed him again, this time with parted lips and a deliberate moan.

"Hey," Sousuke grunted past the intrusion of a tongue in his mouth, his touch already scoring Rin with heat. "Remember earlier when I said I was lost in the music tonight?"

Nodding absently, Rin tilted his hips forward, breathing in the sigh that trembled from Sousuke's mouth. 

"It was you I got lost in, watching you lick your lips, and yours hips swaying-"

"Mmm, I was thinking of you the whole time," Rin purred and nipped at the smirk on Sousuke's lips. "I can give you a dance like that if you hurry your ass up now."

Rin watched with a familiar pleasure as teal became swallowed up by dark irises."Tempting. Oh, would you look at the time. I have to go. Right now. Got someone to talk to," Sousuke's aroused rasp did little to hide the tease in his voice.

“Don’t take to long. It’s rare that we get a whole dressing room to ourselves,” Rin hummed back, hands sliding suggestively down the supple planes of relaxed abs.

“Rin, we have the whole hotel room to ourselves when we get back.”

“Okay yeah but where’s the novelty in that? We do it all the time in hotels. But _here,_ we could do it on the counter, or against the mirror, and there’s the danger of being caught~”

“You cried the last time Rei walked in on us fucking,” Sousuke pointed out.

“I- No, that was different!”

“How was that different?”

“I was in a skirt,” Rin whispered accusingly. Sousuke took a few moments to process the argument.

“Alright, point taken,” he agreed.

“Which reminds me, it’s your turn next time." He gave Sousuke's ass a firm reminder squeeze. "Now go talk to that idiot and find out why the hell he was sexually assaulting our crowd with his eyes all night.”

“Okay, be back in a minute.” This time, Sousuke bent down to meet Rin’s awaiting lips. “And you better behave while I’m gone,” his palms cupped the perfect curve of his lover’s ass back while he whispered, “you know I don’t like it when you do naughty things without me.”

“I can’t help it, you just get me so _horny_ thinking about you Daddy, I can’t-”

“SERIOUSLY YOU TWO?” Nagisa’s shrill announcement of his arrival sent Sousuke and Rin flying apart to opposite ends of the hall, each of them blushing so hard it was impossible to determine who had it worse. “I’ve been standing here for _thirty whole seconds._ THIRTY and you didn’t even notice? This is why we give you a separate dressing room from everyone else, you perverts!” He gave an exasperated huff, overdramatic in nature as his shoulders slumped tragically and his head drooped forward. “All my efforts here are pointless, I see. No one appreciates anything I do for them!”

“Nagisa- please calm down we were just-”

“Ah, ah, ah!” The blond stopped them, wagging a finger in the air while the other hand posed authoritatively on his hip, his eccentric purple suit making the picture more comical than intimidating. “Don’t wanna hear it. Take you daddy-kink loving, dirty-talking asses out of this hallway now before I count to three! _One-_ ”

“Alright, alright, jeez,” Rin groaned, his hands raised in surrender as he moved to their dressing room door hastily. “See you back at the hotel, boss. Oh, and Sousuke?” He added, deliberately looking past his shorter manager to give his boyfriend one last antagonistically seductive look. “Hurry back, _Daddy.”_

Rin chuckled as he closed the door behind himself, the cries of an adorably furious Nagisa shouting from down the hall following close after. “You boys are _Out. Of. Control_. Guess I’ll be seeing you both in hell now after that Jesus Christ _Fuck_ I need a drink and a good lay I just can’t work in these conditions-”

The redhead set to wiping off his dripping skin and runny makeup with a towel after plugging his phone into the charger against the wall. He had a feeling that any kind of sexuality conversation was bound to take a while despite their optimism, especially when involving Makoto, who could easily ramble on for hours about a subject once you got him started. He’d probably have time to take a brief nap if he really wanted to, maybe even get himself prepared for Sousuke so that they could get right into it once he came back or-

His phone buzzed twice then. He snatched it up from the counter beside him, eager curiosity getting the best of him while opening his messages with only slightly frantic fingers. Surely it couldn’t be Sou already…

His jaw dropped, rereading the message several times in disbelief.

Rin couldn’t help the “Holy fuckin’ shit” that tumbled from his lips after that.

 

* * *

 

Sousuke gave the door two gentle taps with his knuckles, not even waiting for a reply before coming in. Makoto wouldn’t mind if he walked in while he was changing, after all. The entire band had seen each other naked several times, back in the days when they all had to share one dressing room. However, what he quickly figured Makoto _might_ actually mind was Sousuke walking in on him, with pants at his ankles and a fist wrapped firmly around his dick, while he stroked himself off eagerly against the wall and groaned an unpleasantly familiar name under his breath.

Which he was doing right now.

“Oh shit,” Sousuke merely grumbled. He’d seen a dick before, obviously, had even walked in on his college roommate jerking off a couple times. But that wasn’t really the issue to come- no pun intended. This was more severe than he had thought.

Makoto looked up like a deer caught in headlights, his hand stopping abruptly as he noticed the taller man standing uselessly in the doorway. And though he did have the sense to at least blush with embarrassment, Makoto certainly lacked the appropriate flustered response Sousuke had been expecting, admitting with surprising resolve and acceptance, “Sou, I have a problem.”

“No kidding,” the darker brunet choked. “Now can you put the problem away so I can talk to you for a second?”

Makoto seemed unfazed, a disturbingly calm look on his face as he tucked his erection back into his briefs, the only concerning sign about him being his brows furrowed in thought. He seemed to stare off in deliberation, his gaze distracted by something deep in his own mind. “No, I’m serious. It’s… it’s getting bad,” he added, as if Sousuke had been laughing at him rather than straight-faced patiently waiting for a reply.

Regardless, it was hard to take his friend seriously with his black jeans pooled around his feet and his hard-on still obscenely visible. Sousuke did his best to listen and be empathetic anyway, setting his lips into a subdued line while he nodded. “Ah, I see. What’s wrong?”

Makoto’s viridian eyes finally met with his again, and Sousuke found realization overcoming them now.

“Sou,” his friend finally sighed with resounding defeat and relief, “I think I like a boy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little Sourin perspective for you all! I have a lot of fun writing Rin specifically, so expect another chapter or two from him later. Anyway this was another short one but come on Makoto needs some character development before they can even consider confessing rite? Rite.
> 
> Also I feel v bad about Sousuke outing Makoto to Rin so ADDITIONAL SIDE NOTE that Makoto gave him permission to tell Rin immediately because he knew there was no way Sou could keep a secret from his bf since he's lowkey whiiipeedddd
> 
> Check out my [makoharu blog](http://tachinanabananase.tumblr.com/) as well as my [personal blog](http://fikkifini.tumblr.com/) on tumblr! <3


	6. Beast of Burden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Makoto shares some news he has been hesitant to tell...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IMPORTANTE: I made a minor edit in chapter 3 that alludes to the juicy secret revealed in this chapter! Go back and take a look, see if you can spot it ;)
> 
> Also I'm not the biggest fan of this chap but I felt like some topics needed to be discussed before anything... spicy happens...
> 
> Okay anyway hope you like it at least a little and stick around for notes at the end!

“Haru? Are you sure you’re alright?” Makoto called hesitantly from the other side of the oak door, his voice taught with worry.

“M’fine,” Haru replied shorty, submerging himself deeper into the intricately tiled tub in Makoto's- admittedly well decorated- master bathroom. He huffed, causing a surge of angry bubbles to pop around his lips.

“Okay… You’re not mad at me, are you?”

“No.”

“Okay… well, see it’s just- you made a face like you _were_ mad at me and so I just wanted to, you know, make sure.”

“It’s fine,” he clipped a little more forcefully than intended. “It was an accident.”

Yes, it certainly was an accident that Makoto had, with perfect synchronization turned away from the stove- a huge pot of curry in hand -at the very same time Haru turned to check the rice. And it was definitely an accident that said entire pot of curry ended up dripping in a hot, slimy mess down the front of Haru’s knit sweater (it was white, _of course_ it was white). Makoto’s response had been quick; he had already thrown the now nearly empty pot in the sink and was struggling to get Haru out of his shirt, insisting that he check for burns. This lead to Haru being dragged into the living room, where the natural light from the windows was better for seeing, and being pushed very carefully down onto the sofa so Makoto could inspect his torso. It wasn’t long before the fingers grazing over his skin with a moist towel left the raven biting his lip in restraint and trembling all over. Those delicate, tender fingers slipped lower and lower, until one particular touch to his bellybutton had coaxed a mortifyingly sexual gasp out of Haru. Before either could process fully what had happened, and why Haru felt the need to conceal his lower pelvis from view now, he was bolting to the bathroom, insisting that he needed to bathe off the rest of the curry now drying onto his skin.

Haru surmised that probably the biggest accident of them all though was him ever assuming he would be able to be fucking normal again ever since the damned poster incident anyway. 

Makoto, unaware of Haru now stewing in his own misery and _not_ curry, took a little longer to reply this time, the faint shadows of his feet visible through the crack under the door. Haru knew he was still there. Just thinking, probably.

“But after… I didn’t meant to- um, make you uncomfortable like that,” he said sheepishly, obviously referring to the way Haru had launched into panic mode just from a simple graze of skin on skin contact. “I’ll ah, try not to t-touch you again if it bothers you.”

Haru felt his throat tighten at the idea. He liked when Makoto touched him, even when it was just a meaningless brush of shoulders or a guiding hand on his own. It was comforting, warm, everything a friendship should be like. Everything that he wanted to feel from the green-eyed singer.

“Makoto.”

Haru could practically hear how the brunet perked up at the sound of his name.

“Yeah?”

“You don’t have to talk to me through the door.” _Please come in. I want to see you._

Makoto’s meek yet hopeful grin lit up the room as he cracked open the door, eyes wandering curiously over Haru’s drenched form. “Okay!” His gaze flickered down to the water then, a sudden look of apprehension crossing his features mixed with redness in his cheeks. “Oh, um. I won’t look if you don’t want-”

Haru had nearly forgotten he was in the tub and completely naked, and what was more, there were no bubbles in the water to conceal any part of him. He tucked his knees up to his chest with a splash and wrapped his arms around them, turning his head away from the taller man. “It’s fine.”

Makoto took his approval with caution, slipping into the room slowly and leaning up against the sink, settling there with golden tan arms crossed over his chest. He seemed to be avoiding looking in Haru’s direction at all cost. The silence between them stretched uncertainly as they struggled to find something, anything to say. Typically this kind of quiet between them was never uncomfortable, and had become a common occurrence over the few months they had grown closer. However, though he couldn’t quite place why, there was something heavier in the emptiness tonight. Makoto dared to break it first.

“Haru?” The question was weak and tentative. He already wasn’t a fan of this odd and awkward new direction their friendship was taking so suddenly.

“Hm?”

Makoto bit his lip before continuing, worrying the tender, lusciously pink flesh between his teeth as his heavy jade gaze lingered on slate tiles. “Ah, do you think… um…” For a moment, Haru almost forgot the man standing before him was easily making the climb to be Japan’s hottest rockstar; he looked so docile slouched there, like someone who would never even dream of walking onto a stage in front of thousands of people. “D-do you think it’s weird for boys to like other boys?” He whispered, as if afraid of his own question. Perhaps he was. It came out of nowhere really, and Haru had a feeling the singer didn’t really intend to say it out loud in the first place.

“No,” Haru said calmly, masterfully hiding the way his heartbeat was pounding in his entire face now. He was utterly shocked by his own unanticipated resolve. “I think… you should like someone because you like _them,_ not because they’re boy or girl.”

“Oh.” Makoto seemed pleasantly surprised by that answer, his eyes shyly darting back up to glean Haru’s reaction better. “Well then, have you…?” He trailed off before sucking his bottom lip back between his teeth again. Haru wasn’t sure how much more of this conversation he could handle if Makoto kept that up. He’d surely attack him with his mouth by some point at the very least.

He focused his attention on Makoto’s unfinished question instead. He couldn’t really say he liked boys- at least, definitely not all of them. He could tell when they were attractive to him or not, but he could also do that with girls. If he was being honest, Makoto was the first boy to actually make Haru _feel_ like he had a crush, even if it was just that to begin with.

“Um, yeah, I think so,” he said truthfully, trying to throw away the gravity of his confession with a careless shrug. He expected a gasp, or at least some kind of mild astonishment, but for some reason Makoto seemed unperturbed by the news, concern gracing his brow instead.

“Oh, gosh. H-haru?” Makoto’s voice sounded watery suddenly, thick with what Haru desperately hoped was not tears. “Have you been in love with Rin this whole time? And he doesn’t love you back? Poor Haru-chan!”

Had his mouth been submerged in the water as before, Haru was sure he would have just drowned himself from gasping in a lungful of liquid.

“ _God no._ I said you have to actually _like them_ ,” he shot back, offended by whatever idea of his taste in men Makoto seemed to apparently have.

The taller man looked insufferably apologetic, as if he’d just asked a terminally ill patient how many days he had left to live rather than a question as mediocre as who his crush was. “S-sorry! I just… I assumed because you guys lived together, and you know each other so well and-”

“Doesn’t mean I liked him though,” Haru cut off with finality, ending the discussion about any potential of him and Rin right then and there. If he thought about it any longer, he was certain he would develop a splitting headache in no time.

“Okay. Sorry.”

“Stop apologizing.”

“Sorry, Haru. I’ll stop.”

“You just did it again.”

“Sorry! I- oh shit,” the brunet sighed in defeat, his head hung low. Another silence settled between them. The water in the tub was getting uncomfortably cold.

“Haru?”

“What is this, twenty questions?” Haru mumbled, resting the back of his head against the tile wall, his eyes drifting shut.

Taking no offense from the comment, Makoto caught himself before apologizing once more, then continued. “I was just wondering. If you’d ever, um. K-kissed one?”

Haru cracked an eye open, unable to help the glare that seeped from it. Why in the hell would Makoto ask that? This wasn’t some erotic romance novel: he wasn’t asking so he could lure Haru to be his first, and then they would fall hopelessly, madly in love with each other and make passionate love until dawn. The raven found it hard to believe someone as innocent as Makoto could have any sort of intentions like that. No, there must have been something else, something someone said, or maybe something Haru had done-

Unless…

“Makoto. Do you remember that day, the first time you came to my house?”

He nodded, “Yeah, of course.”

“Do you remember the night before?”

Pink dusted Makoto’s cheeks at the mention of it. “Um, yeah. Why?”

Haru swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat before asking firmly, “What did I promise you that night?”

Makoto looked away immediately, a pained expression on his features that Haru just barely caught a glimpse of. “You really don’t want to know.”

“Yes, I do,” Haru asserted, sitting up in his anxiousness.

“Haruuu, I… I don’t want to say it out loud!” The younger man whined.

Haru couldn’t stop the bite of anger that charged his voice, his concern pushing him to his feet as he barked, “It’s my right to know!”

He didn’t care that he was buck-ass naked in front of the man he idolized most. Okay, maybe he did a little- but he needed an answer.

Makoto glanced over his shoulder at the sound of sloshing water, but quickly turned away again once he caught an eyeful of Haru’s state. The very tips of his ears flushed a shocking shade of red. “You… well, we were just dancing together and suddenly, I-I don’t even know how it happened. You were right there. Like, just inches from my face. And you put your hands on my cheeks and you said s-something like… I dunno, I can’t-” he shrugged, his voice trailing off.

“Makoto. Tell me.”

“I don’t know it was loud and I couldn’t hear well and I thought-”

“You said you remember.”

“-I thought you asked me if I would-”

Haru felt his patience thinning as he stood there, dripping wet and freezing. His teeth chattered a bit when he finally groaned, “Asked you _what,_ Makoto?”

“You asked if I would kiss you!”

Now it was Haru’s turn to stutter.

“I- I did _what?!”_

Makoto finally turned around with a defeated sigh, but his eyes remained firmly planted downwards as he moved across the room to the fresh pile of folded, navy towels that sat on a wooden rack next to the shower. “Here,” he grabbed one and tossed it to Haru before continuing, resettling in his spot against the sink. “You pulled me close and- and you straight up asked me if I’d kiss you.”

Haru, who hardly had the sense to catch the towel that was thrown at him due to his shock, stood frozen with disbelief as he gawked at the other man.

Mortified as he was, a part of him thanked the gods that Bourbon Haru had the balls to do the shit he would only dare dream about when sober.

After a while, and once he had slowly gathered the strength to wrap the towel around his waist, Haru asked a tentative, “Well?”

“Well what?”

He shrugged dismissively, as if his entire life wasn’t riding upon the answer to his question. “Did you?” Thank god he had gotten over his star-struck phase months ago, otherwise he was sure he would have passed out by now just imagining the possibility that he had _accidentally kissed Tachibana Makoto for real._

Maybe he was being hopeful, or maybe his vision was just blurred because he was so goddamn cold, but he could have sword he saw a smirk creep upon the other man’s lips.

“Yeah. I did.”

Okay, wrong. _Entirely_ wrong. He was not past his star-struck phase. In fact, he was absolutely, one hundred percent paralyzed right now and probably would not be able to move from this very spot, dripping wet in Makoto’s tub while he gaped like a fish, for the next 10,000 years- unless the opportunity to kiss him came up again. Then he’d even give The Flash a run for his money.

“We… kissed?”

Makoto somehow had the audacity to look nonchalant about it, as if he hadn’t been the one blushing the color of an apple a minute ago. “I mean, it was short. You were so drunk, I didn’t want you to do something you’d regret, so I stopped it pretty quick.”

Haru felt as if he was drunk right now. Like the entire room was spinning, and all he could focus on, all that kept him afloat, was that calming little smirk gracing the singer’s lips.

“W-what did I promise you then?” Haru realized his original question hadn’t been answered- although he wasn’t disappointed in the alternative information he had garnered either.

 _That_ seemed to make Makoto embarrassed again. “Oh, um. Well, after I pulled away, you s-sort of grabbed my ass and you said, ‘I bet I could make a guy like you want me.’”

Haru felt faint. He sat on the edge of the tub, head shaking dismally in his hands. “No. No I didn’t. Please tell me I didn’t.”

“And I said, ‘Oh, really?’ because I thought it was- I dunno, like a joke or something. But then you um, well, you pressed really close again in the ah, _lower_ areas,” Makoto almost choked on that, swallowing thickly around his humiliation, “and you said, ‘I’ll prove it to you, I promise’.”

“Fucking hell,” Haru groaned, leaning his elbows on his thighs, his palms desperately hiding his flushed face. He really didn’t think it could have gotten worse. Really though, what was more awful than trying to drunkenly make out with the hottest, most talented human being you knew? He had no idea that he could have outdone himself so easily. And he didn’t remember a single damn second of it. Was it even a good kiss? And oh god, did he try to use tongue? But- well fuck. More importantly:

Why, _why_ in the name of all that is good and holy, did Makoto actually do it in the first place?

“Haru? I… I know you’re embarrassed, but if it makes you feel better, I’m not mad about it or anything,” Makoto supplied. Haru could see him come closer through his fingers, his grey woolen socks at the corner of his vision. “After I turned you down, you took it really well. You promised to make me breakfast instead, and look how that turned out?” Hearing the smile in Makoto’s voice, Haru found the courage to finally meet the other’s sincere gaze.

“So you…” He swallowed harshly, still trying to form clear sentences in his mind. “You thought I was gay because of that? Is that why you asked if I’d liked boys?”

Makoto looked entirely surprised by that, eyes wide as if he hadn’t made the connection at all. “Oh, um. Yeah, I guess,” he agreed, although there was a distinct lack of conviction in his words. Haru decided not to push it, already confused beyond comprehension and feeling like the fragile state of their friendship was in danger of crumbling to bits.

“Rin didn’t see?”

“No, he was probably making out with Sou somewhere.” Okay, so Rin and Sousuke playing tongue-of-war left this guy entirely unbothered, but Haru asks for _one fuckin’ kiss_ and suddenly his entire understanding of homosexuality is tilting on its axis?

“Okay. Good. I’d never hear the end of it if he knew,” Haru sighed, finding the strength in himself to stand. His hair was still dripping wet, but he wanted to get dressed. He usually didn’t mind being half, or even mostly naked around other people, but given these new circumstances, Haru was feeling rather self-conscious.

Suddenly a second towel was blocking his vision after being plopped onto his head. The gentle pressure of fingers rubbing the material against his scalp made him huff with a wave of relief before he tensed up again, noticing how close Makoto was.

“You’re hair was soaked still,” the brunet said as if it was enough of an excuse to be _so god damn close again Jesus Christ he was going to melt_. When he determined his work was done, Makoto tossed the now wet towel into a hamper near the clean ones and started to walk out of the bathroom like there was nothing left to be said- as if this had been a totally normal conversation between them. “Your clothes are still in the wash, but you can borrow some of mine,” he looked over his shoulder with a smile that devastated Haru, his chest throbbing uncontrollably. “Wait here a minute.”

When Makoto came back a minute later, it was with a soft grey t-shirt and a pair of joggers on his arm. He handed them to Haru, who was trying not to make a show of his no-reason-boner through the towel at the moment, which distracted him from noticing the pair of black briefs Makoto was holding out to him sheepishly.

He cleared his throat, his voice a little more taut than usual. “Um, here. They’re new, so you can just keep them after this.”

Glancing apprehensively down at the briefs, Haru seriously questioned what the melting point of a human body was, certain that if he hadn’t been hot enough before, he was definitely there now. He wished things were normal again, back to when his sweater was still white and not drenched in curry, back to when he would be pleased enough by little finger touches against the keys of a piano. But now all he could think about, all he wanted was to know how that kiss felt, how Makoto had tasted that night, how firm his ass would have been under the heat of his palms.

Would things ever be normal again now?

“Haru-chan, I’m going to start remaking dinner while you change. I think there’s some mackerel in the fridge, if you want that instead?”

Oh.

And there it was again, as if nothing had happened. That sense of comfort, laced in the gentle tones of Makoto’s voice, in the way they seemed to operate independently yet synonymously at the same time. That simple joy of knowing there was someone else who wanted him there, who wanted to _be_ there. The way they coexisted was like a harmony not even Makoto himself could bring out of a piano. Even after moments of chaos, Haru thought, he was certain that harmony would always return in some way, somehow.

Normal or not, Haru wouldn’t give a single thing up to change that fact. Not even for a glass of bourbon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay- so. I'm kind of worried about how Makoto comes off in this chapter? The reason why he wants to know Haru's thoughts about liking boys is not really because he wants to know his sexuality. I think it's more about his uncertainty in himself right now. This is the first time he's liked a boy, and he really doesn't want it to potentially affect his friendship with Haru, so I think it's more like he wants to make sure Haru will still accept him even if he did like a boy. 
> 
> BUT. This whole time he was pretty certain that the kiss thing was just a drunk accident, especially because Haru hadn't seemed to be making any other moves since then (and the phone number thing threw him off too). Obviously he's still been thinking about it though because Haru basically stole his heart that night, but once Haru confirmed that he's liked a boy before too, Makoto sort of regains hope that maybe things could work out between them.
> 
> Is that a reach? I feel like it's a reach. Idk Makoto's feelings are out of control right now so I'm having a hard time writing him. Anyway I hope it's all believable? Thanks for reading and I promise it will actually get better because this chap was certainly a low point lol
> 
> ALSO chapter title is in reference to Makoto not wanting to tell Haru about that night, because he doesn't want to worry his precious bff <3
> 
> Thank you for reading! Check out my [makoharu blog](http://tachinanabananase.tumblr.com/) as well as my [personal blog](http://fikkifini.tumblr.com/) on tumblr! <3


	7. Fooled Around and Fell In Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haru has been invited to stay with the band in their hotel for an out of town concert that night. Guess who his roommate is?
> 
> It's been months of flirting people. I think they're about ready for something new...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ha haha hA I'M SCREAMING BECAUSE THIS IS NOT WHAT I PLANNED TO HAPPEN IN THIS CHAPTER BUT L O L  
> Honestly sometimes these two boys write themselves and I can't stop them from doing what they're destined to do :)

As he heard the telltale metallic click of a keycard unlocking his hotel room door, Makoto thought to himself humorlessly that Haru couldn’t have picked a worse moment to get back from the grocery store.

Well, that’s not entirely true. He could have been masturbating, which most people would consider worse, he figured (poor Sousuke, may his soul rest in peace). Regardless, whatever Haru was about to see, it certainly wouldn’t be pretty either.

“Makoto, I’m back,” the brunet flinched at Haru’s unusually pleasant voice so close to the other side of the bathroom door.

“Ah, um. Okay, I’m drying off? I’ll be out in a minute.” He replied tightly, anxiously tapping his nails on the counter. If he could just stall for a little longer, just enough time for it to finish drying, he could get washed up and...”

“Oh, you’re in here?”

Realizing too late that not only was Haru right outside the door now, but that he was enough of an idiot to leave it cracked open, Makoto gave a despairing sigh. With normal friends, this wouldn’t typically be a problem. However, Haru wasn’t really a _normal_ friend. Their close bond meant that Haru was no longer hesitant or uncomfortable sharing a space with Makoto, which was part of the reason why Rin booked them a shared hotel room. However, this bond also meant that Haru had no issue walking into a bathroom while you were doing your business just to ask you a simple question that he very easily could asked from _outside_ the door.

Speaking of which.

Said door swung open then, an entirely unsuspecting Haru standing in its place. “They didn’t have the shampoo you normally use, but I found this anti-frizz one that I thought you’d like instead so-” Haru looked up from the label of the shampoo bottle in his hand and stopped short at the sight of Makoto standing sheepishly in the middle of the bathroom. He opened his mouth to explain, but quickly found he had nothing to justify this.

“What are you doing?” Haru asked in such a way that wasn’t entirely rude, but didn’t sound quite polite either.

“Um. It’s a… a mud mask.”

Haru arched a brow, “Yeah? And why are you… doing one?”

Makoto shrugged unconvincingly. “It’s part of my pre-show routine?”

He didn’t seem to buy that.

“It’s stress-relieving, with eucalyptus mint?”

“Makoto,” Haru narrowed his eyes and leaned into the doorframe, crossing his arms, “you’re already the most low-stress person I know.”

Untrue, Makoto reasoned, he was just very good at hiding the way most things in his life actually severely stressed him out. Exhibit A: An hour ago, when he and Haru walked into the hotel room to find that Rin had booked one with a _single_ bed, that sly, sonofa-

“Here, let me,” Haru was suddenly too close, offering a hand out to take the damp washcloth Makoto had been nervously wringing in his hands, ready to wipe off the goopy mess. He couldn’t find a logical reason why Haru would want to do it himself, but then again, he couldn’t find a reason to say no either. He silently handed over the rag, eyes a little wide and chewing his lip in anticipation already. “Sit,” the raven flipped the toilet seat down and Makoto did so obediently. For a chance to have Haru touching him, even if it was just as innocent as washing his face, Makoto would do just about anything that was asked of him by this point.

Well, he though to himself dazedly at that, this crush was really getting out of hand then.

Haru started off with little finesse as he took the cloth to Makoto’s skin, wiping away the oddly greenish mud. They didn’t speak much, partly because when Makoto tried to say something once, a glob of peeling mask slipped past his lips and he nearly gagged at the taste and repulsive texture. Haru had reassured him after reading over the ingredients several times that it was organic and he would probably live after swallowing it. Which was relatively comforting, if it weren’t for Haru’s specific use of the word _probably._ They moved past the incident without a trip to the hospital, thankfully, and as time passed Haru’s touch grew gentler, his eyes a little softer. He took the cloth to Makoto’s other cheek, gentle fingers cupping the other side of the brunet’s face, holding him still while he was cleaned. Makoto almost fell asleep from how good it felt to have Haru pampering him so gently, like a boyfriend would.

“Mmmh,” Makoto sighed his pleasure at the idea out loud, although he was sure Haru either didn’t care or thought nothing of it judging by his lack of reaction.

Is this what it would be like to be Haru’s boyfriend? Makoto felt his entire body growing tense with excitement, his belly filled with that familiar butterfly tickle. Getting to be so close whenever they wanted, and getting to spend time alone together like this, and… and not having to suppress the urge to wrap his own fingers around the ones cupping his face right now.

“Makoto.” Haru’s voice interrupted his wandering thoughts. “Close your lips, like this,” he demonstrated by pressing his lips together in a flat line. Imitating him, Makoto let his eyes droop shut as Haru scrubbed the mask off from under his nose and around his mouth. He was especially careful now, using warm water to dab around the area, leaning in with concentration, his eyes trained on the movements of his hand. They were so close, just an inch, maybe two apart. Makoto cracked an eye open, assessing the distance. If he could just… just tilt his head up, just enough for their lips to meet.

“You’re staring,” Haru said cooly, though his reddening cheeks betrayed his indifference. Makoto took note of that and couldn’t help but smile.

“Hm?” He hummed, looking up through his dark lashes, lips still pressed firmly together.

“You- you were staring at my lips.” Tone a little accusing but mostly soft, Makoto wondered hopefully if this was what Haru’s attempt at flirting sounded like.

“Mnmnnn,” he disagreed innocently, shaking his head.

Haru let out a snort that could pass for his version of laughter. “Liar. I saw you.”

“Mnmn!”

“Makoto… look, you’re doing it again.”

“Mh mnhmn mhhn!”

“Yes, you _were_ ,” this time Haru laughed openly, sending a shiver down Makoto’s spine. He’d never heard another sound so perfectly mesmerizing. He could tell Haru was debating on saying something more in the silence that followed, watching the raven shift with anxiousness. It wasn’t long, maybe ten seconds or so, but Haru flushed a deep red when he finally muttered a hesitant but still teasing, “Besides, you already had your chance…”

“Haru!” Makoto opened his mouth despite the dangers of ingesting more mud, incredulous and practically sweating from the heat of his embarrassment. “I- I knew you were still mad at me for that!”

Haru’s hand on his cheek pressed into his skin a little more firmly, settling Makoto almost instantly. “Relax, it was a joke.”

Eying him suspiciously from below, Makoto prodded him again with the question. “You’re not mad that I took advantage of you when you were drunk then?”

Haru gave him a glare of exhaustion before answering. “No, obviously not.”

“How come?” Haru furrowed his brows in confusion, so he elaborated. “I just mean, most people would be angry about that. Especially if they didn’t remember it happening.”

“Why would I be mad at _you_ though,” the question was clearly rhetorical, to Makoto’s surprise.

“Um, maybe because I was practically a stranger to you then?”

Haru flushed a little, but continued with surprising confidence. “Yeah. But you know I was a fan so… so I wasn’t upset.”

Makoto shot him a disbelieving look. “Because you were a fan?”

“B-because I- you know…” Haru glanced away then, his delicate hands stilling on Makoto’s face. “Come on, don’t make me say it again.”

“Say what?”

“Makoto.”

“No seriously! Say what? I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the brunet shook his head. He had a feeling Haru was alluding to the fact that he had admitted he “admired” him back then, but it seemed like there was something more to it, and Makoto wanted desperately to find out.

“That I-“ he let out a frustrated huff, turning to wring out the washcloth in the sink and rise it while collecting his thoughts. Finally, he leveled his gaze back on Makoto’s and admitted with impressive collectiveness, “I admired you, and… and I had a crush on you then.”

Makoto had a feeling he wasn’t going to make it out of this bathroom as a solid form after this; he was certain he’d dissolve into a puddle in a matter of seconds. “H-haru… you actually did? I thought Rin was just teasing when he said that!” He wailed a little too excitedly, immediately covering his mouth with his palms before he blurted something that could potentially be dangerous to their friendship.

However, Haru only resumed his task wordlessly and with new determination, cleaning off the mud from Makoto’s forehead with a little more force than necessary now.

“Haru?”

No response.

“Haruuu. Come on.”

Still nothing.

Makoto reached up to grab his wrist, stopping him from continuing his distracted activity. “Haru, look at me.”

He heard a displeased sigh leave the raven before he obeyed, blue eyes bright with tension and yet a hint of curiosity.

After a calming breath, Makoto insisted shyly, “You don’t have to be scared to tell me those things. I- I know you think I’m in a separate world from you because of my job, but I’m right here. I’m a person, just like you. And… and you’ve become one of my closest friends. Even closer than Rin in some ways,” he chuckled, train of thought almost lost in the shimmering depths of Haru’s stare as he recalled their first kiss. “So please, don’t be afraid of me? I want you to be honest.”

Haru bit his lip for a moment before murmuring, “Then why don’t you be honest with me too.”

Mouth parting with a gasp at his boldness, Makoto released his grip on Haru’s wrist, then nodded in agreement. “That’s fair,” his fingers twisted together in his lap anxiously instead. “What do you want me to be honest about?”

Haru swallowed harshly enough that Makoto could see his throat bob from the effort. Their eyes met for a tense second before he breathed a weak, “Why?”

This time, Makoto knew exactly what he was talking about.

“Because I… I wanted to kiss you too.”

With a wet slap, the dirty washcloth slipped out of Haru’s grip and plopped onto the floor, the noise echoing in the otherwise silent bathroom.

Makoto could practically _hear_ Haru gulping then.

“Now are you mad at me?”

The raven shook his head a little dazedly. “No… just… um, confused.”

What was there to not get? He just admitted the full, sincere truth. At this rate, if their honesty hour continued any longer, he’d be confessing his deepest feelings in no time. Which, he had to admit, he was not exactly keen on doing right now, while his face felt oddly tingly and he probably still looked a bit like a muck monster.

Makoto started rambling before he could profess anything worse. Like the fact that he thought Haru was the prettiest guy he’d ever seen and had entirely questioned his sexuality in a matter of moments because of it.

“I- I don’t know it was just this feeling that came over me. We were having such a good time together and I know we were both drunk and I was just, I dunno, _really_ attracted to you and your confidence. And when you asked I just- I’d never kissed a boy and I figured that well, you know, if it’s gonna be a boy I think you would be better than most and so I went with it! It didn’t- I didn’t think anything would come of it obviously so I-”

“Well what’s come of it?” Haru stopped him suddenly, folding his arms over his chest with a suspicious raised eyebrow.

Shit.

“N-nothing! I just meant-”

“Makoto…”

“I meant nothing _bad_ would come of it-”

Haru stopped him with a firm hand over his mouth.

“I think it’s my turn to play twenty questions now.”

The brunet groaned dismally from behind Haru’s palm. If he asked him for the entire truth now, there’s no way Makoto would have the guts to lie to him anymore. More than anything, he wanted this painful teasing to end and just come forward with his feelings. But the whole part about him _actually confessing_ was what scared him the most.

“Makoto,” Haru said his name like a mother asking their three-year-old to pay attention, “ _be honest._ ” He pulled his hand away from his lips, although it didn’t make it very far before resting against his neck, making Makoto shudder from the thrilling warmth. “Have you ever liked a boy?”

It was Makoto’s turn to swallow dryly now. “Y-yeah,” he admitted with a weak nod, feeling any semblance of his resolve to stay strong crumble under the half-lidded gaze of Haru before him. The raven had such an odd look in his piercing eyes, one that Makoto had only seen that night of their first encounter, when he was considerably drunk on both booze and lust.

“Makoto?”

His voice trembled when he answered this time, “Yes, Haru?”

“Do you like me?”

He tried to smile through his uneasy response, “W-what if I said yes?”

Haru hardly took a breath before the words spilled past his lips. “Then I’d just have to kiss you again,” he bargained, leaving Makoto practically gasping for the air knocked out of his lungs. The fingers on his neck danced down to his collarbone, stroking his skin and sparking volts of electricity through his bones. He could hardly think past the pressure of his blood pumping through his entire body, pounding relentlessly in his ears.

“Do you promise?”

A handsome little smirk spread on Haru’s lips, his eyes sparkling with familiarity at the words. “I promise.”

“Then _yes_. I like you. I really, really do,” Makoto finally admitted softly, unable to tear his pathetic gaze away from Haru’s as he reached up to hold the hand already touching him.

The raven’s eyes widened fractionally at the response, ever careful about blatantly showing his reactions, but Makoto still felt the way his nails dug a little harder into the back of his own neck.

“M-Makoto…”

He let his adrenaline fuel his next move, taking Haru’s waist in his other hand and pulling him down into his lap swiftly. “A promise is a promise,” he breathed, eyes torn between the set of supple lips he’d been craving for months now and the stormy blue eyes that set his pulse at a frenzied pace.

Haru kissed him first, mouth open and hands bold, as if he was just as drunk as the first time it happened. Makoto reciprocated with a sigh of relief and pleasure, marveling in the soft press of Haru’s sweet lips, a little chapped from the spring winds outside. It wasn’t perfect, considering their eagerness and the fact that, well, they were both admittedly inexperienced, but Makoto couldn’t get enough of the way Haru made his entire body sing with joy, feeling the rush from his chest to the very tips of his fingers while they tangled into dark locks. They parted for a breath, then kissed again, this time shorter before Makoto could hardly hold his head up properly, lightheaded and giddy from such a strong surge of emotion. He let his forehead fall against Haru’s shoulder, embarrassed that he was already panting just from kissing alone.

“Haru,” he whined, his arms tightening around the raven’s waist as Haru’s hands began to caress his back leisurely, “I can’t… if we keep going, I feel like I’m- like I’m not going to be able to control myself.”

He felt the unsteady nod of Haru’s head against his. “Me too.”

Silence fell over them again, and Makoto suddenly remembered where they were.

In a hotel room. Alone. With one bed to share tonight.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he groaned into Haru’s shirt.

The raven snorted dryly, “What?”

“We have to share a bed.”

The hands on his back stopped their motions. “Is that a bad thing?”

“No, it’s- it’s exactly what I want but _that’s_ what’s bad about it.”

Haru somehow seemed to decipher this cryptic message and sighed in understanding. “Hmn. Do you want me to stay in Rin’s room?”

“Absolutely not,” he pulled away from Haru’s shoulder to give him a disapproving frown. “Plus, as if Rin would give up a free pass to have crazy sex in a hotel room.”

“Well what do you suggest we do then?”

Haru shifted his hips at the question. Surely it was meant to be innocent, Haru would _never_ have the nerve to try something like that so soon, but Makoto could hardly hold back his squeak as the denim of his jeans rubbed teasingly against his slowly growing erection. Having Haru in his lap like this was quickly becoming overwhelming, to say the least, as images of other things they could do in this position flooded his mind.

“Um. Well, should we… I don’t know, make rules or something?”

Haru pursed his lips, assessing the idea for a moment. “That could work,” he still sounded doubtful despite his verbal agreement.

“What’s wrong?” Makoto pouted a little, hoping Haru wasn’t getting put off by the idea of sleeping in the same bed as him.

“I’m just concerned. You know, about… _him._ ”

Makoto’s lips parted in sudden realization. “Ohh, you mean Bourbon Haru?”

“Yes, him.”

He chuckled, finding it impossibly adorable that Haru’s sexual predator alter ego was so notorious among their friend group already. “Well, if Bourbon Haru makes an appearance tonight, I will hold myself accountable to sleep far away from him. Even if that means sleeping on the floor.”

Haru pouted a little at that. “But…”

“Hm?” Makoto encouraged, a soothing hand running up and down Haru’s side.

“I… I want to be close to you,” he murmured. Makoto was strangely proud of how frank Haru was being with him now. He still couldn’t quite fathom the fact that they had finally taken this next step together, but happily went along with it anyway.

“Okay, then I’ll make sure not to drink. That way if Bourbon Haru shows up, I wont be tempted by his sorcery,” Makoto teased with a kiss to Haru’s nose that felt shockingly natural. The older boy recoiled at the gesture, a comically stunned expression on his face as his pink cheeks burned bright. “By the way,” he added, “you’re really good at keeping your promises.”

Haru frowned a little, “What do you mean?”

“Well, I was pretty surprised by breakfast alone, but I certainly didn’t expect you to make good on your other promise that night too.” Haru let out a low groan of annoyance at Makoto bringing that up again. “What was it you said? ‘I could made a guy like you want me’?”

“Shut up.”

“I mean, _I’m_ impressed-”

“Makoto,” this time, his name was more like a warning.

“Alright, I’ll stop, I’ll stop,” he acquiesced, but not without naming his conditions. “You have to kiss me first, though.”

Their lips met again with even less hesitance than before. Haru nibbled on his lower lip before breaking away, his voice gruffer than usual when he spoke.

“Be honest with me about one more thing.”

Makoto nuzzled his cheek and hummed his compliance.

“Seriously, _why_ were you doing a face mask?”

Resignedly, he explained, “Rin told me that rock stars are supposed to have beautiful skin. So he said it would ‘protect my face from the horrors of male hormones’ as I got older.”

Haru was doing a _really_ bad job at hiding his amusement at that.

“What’s so funny? It’s not like it’s that uncommon!” Makoto tried to defend himself. Truthfully, he actually did really enjoy the way his masks left his skin remarkably smooth, and yes, it _actually_ was pretty de-stressing as well, all right?

“Makoto,” Haru’s hands were on his face again, thumbs brushing over the baby-soft apples of his cheeks. There was that gaze too, sultry and serious and everything Makoto fantasized about in his dreams, jerking his attention back to every word forming on Haru’s lips. “You’re beautiful already, even without that stuff.”

Haru leaned in to press a final, firm kiss to Makoto’s mouth, rendering the brunet entirely speechless even after he had removed himself from his lap, turning to exit the bathroom.

“And by the way,” he said offhandedly, just before closing the door behind him, “I missed a spot.”

Brows furrowing while his brain struggled to figure out Haru’s meaning, still lagging from their last kiss, he glanced over to the mirror above the sink. It wasn’t until Makoto saw in his reflection the splotches of gooey green eucalyptus mint scented mud still plastered around his eyes that he understood the mischievous smirk that accompanied Haru’s words.

“Oh. My. _God,_ Haru! _”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OOPS WELL
> 
> Honestly you guys from the very beginning I had the confession chapter written and this was not it, but I started to write this one last week and I was having such a hard time stopping it from going there. And then today I was just like FUCK IT THIS IS WHAT THEY WANT and so I went with it :) I hope you like it and I will certainly be writing what happens that night after the concert for more fun!!
> 
> Comments and kudos will make my entire heart melt thanks :) (also this is surprisingly appropriate for a certain holiday this tuesday...) And check out my [makoharu blog](http://tachinanabananase.tumblr.com/) as well as my [personal blog](http://fikkifini.tumblr.com/) on tumblr! <3


	8. Your Song

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the concert, Makoto finds himself stuck between a bed and a hard place...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm getting so good at training myself not to write smut just because there's a hotel room and a bed  
> Also please listen to Your Song by Elton John while reading this chap (or at least when Makoto is singing) if you like some immersive fiction

Makoto was hardly surprised by the sight in his hotel room as he slouched through the door later that evening.

There was Haru, back to Makoto and nestled safely in bed ( _their bed_ , he thought dreamily), the downy comforter pulled up over his shoulders to keep away the dwindling nightly chill as winter slowly morphed into spring. Less than a few hours ago, they had both been at Makoto’s gig, each in their respective locations. Makoto onstage, putting on a show as usual, and Haru at the bar. Doing… well, exactly what Haru did at gigs: getting drunk.

To his surprise though, once the band had closed their set and made their way out into crowded venue, Haru had acted shockingly sober, his lips set in a firm line and eyes leveled evenly with Makoto’s when he approached excitedly. Haru excused himself quietly after that with little more than a glance in the singer’s direction, insisting that he was tired and wanted to return to the hotel, but that the band should stay and enjoy themselves. Makoto had shot him a concerned look before they parted, offering to walk Haru out to his cab, but the raven had simply lowered his gaze in silence before shutting the car door behind him. Watching as the taxi sped off into distant city lights, Makoto had wondered vaguely, and with an annoying pinch in his throat, if this was what it felt like to actually be rejected.

After gently setting his guitar case down and dropping his duffel onto the floor next to it, he gave Haru’s sleeping form one last longing glance before opting for the shower instead. By all accounts, Haru had made it pretty clear that he didn’t want to be near Makoto after the concert, and the brunet didn’t want to push their delicate balance amidst the current teetering shift in their relationship. Although, he couldn’t help but replay every shared moment between them that day while he stepped into the shower, desperately trying to decipher what went wrong.

Was it after the mud-mask incident, when Makoto had forced Haru to try it out for himself? No, the raven had practically been purring beneath Makoto’s touch as he spread the mask over his face with his fingers, and not to mention the way Haru blushed prettily while he received the same tender cleaning that he had given to Makoto earlier.

Maybe after that, when they were at dinner with the band pre-show, and Rin inevitably brought up the fact that they would be sharing a bed tonight? That had definitely put off Haru, but despite his short-tempered shutdown of a response to Rin, he only leaned in closer to Makoto’s reassuring touch underneath the table, their thighs pressed warmly together as he ate the rest of his meal in stubborn silence.

Makoto scrubbed shampoo into his hair under the steaming spray of water, chewing on his lip in thought as he considered every detail of evidence he could scrounge up from his memory. No matter how hard he analyzed though, he couldn’t justify Haru’s dramatic mood change being due to anything that happened before the concert started. Maybe… maybe something during it had caused him to retreat in his affections?

That seemed most plausible at this point, he figured after rinsing off and stepping out into the hazy bathroom, toweling himself dry hurriedly. He shimmied into the clothes he had brought in with him, just an old t-shirt and a pair of sweats, before emerging from the bathroom quietly, careful not to let the squeaky hinges jostle Haru from sleep.

Now, he faced a new dilemma. With Haru’s dismissive attitude being the first concern on his mind, he couldn’t help but feel guilty about trying to get into bed with him, even in the most literal sense. He wanted nothing more than to snuggle up close next to him and explore the new physical territories of their relationship, but nagging doubt left Makoto hesitant, standing dumbly on the right side of their queen-sized bed, torn about his next move.

“You can lay down,” Haru’s rasped, sleep-trodden voice filtered through the darkness then, practically jolting Makoto into the air with shock.

“H-haru!”

“Shh, you’re loud,” he muttered, rolling over with a rustle of sheets and blankets to face Makoto. His sapphire eyes were hardly more than just a dim twinkle in the blackness, a faint beacon lighting the path to him.

The singer slowly dropped his hands from his mouth, where they had leapt to in his surprise. “Are… are you sure?”

“Yes.”

The pinch in his throat from earlier returned, though this time more like a lump than anything else. “Okay,” he climbed into the bed gingerly, careful to mind Haru’s personal bubble as he maneuvered under the blankets. The raven was clearly displeased by that.

“I wont bite,” he insisted softly, taking notice of the good foot of distance Makoto had placed between them, so much so that he was hardly even on the bed.

“Haru,” he gave a whine that was pretty pathetic, even he had to admit. “It’s dangerous.”

“Dangerous?”

Makoto felt his cheeks heat at the thought, whispering timidly from across the pillows, “If I get too close, I’ll want to touch you. And… and I don’t want you to get even more mad at me for it.”

Haru sat up then, pushing himself onto an elbow. Even in the darkness, Makoto could still sense the intensity of his stare. “More mad?”

“You left right after the concert. I- I thought I did something that bothered you so-”

He could just barely make out the sight of Haru shaking his head. “No, I’m not mad. I just…” he huffed, flopping back down into the mattress and eyeing the ceiling. “I was getting too tipsy, and I didn’t want to be when you got back.”

Makoto furrowed his brows. “Why?” He took a leap of faith and reached out, placing a hand over Haru’s resting limp between them.

Nimble fingers curled around his gratefully.

“Because I wanted to be able to remember this time,” the raven breathed, eyes decisively avoiding Makoto’s wide, viridian stare now.

Doubt cast aside in favor of the overwhelming affection bubbling within, Makoto practically launched himself at the other boy, wrapping Haru in his arms and nuzzling his face into his neck elatedly. “If you keep talking like that,” he groaned, “you’re going to have a hard time getting out of this bed any time soon.”

“Maybe I don’t want to,” Haru’s answer came hushed after a warm silence.

“I won’t let go then.”

He tightened his grip mercilessly in response.

“Don’t.”

Certain that his heart was about to burst with emotion, Makoto inched up to press a kiss to Haru’s temple and inhaled deeply, savoring the feeling of silk skin under his lips and somehow resisting the desire to begin a heady make out session when it was already nearing 2 a.m. Haru seemed to be having a similar issue, squirming from the too innocent contact and tilting his head invitingly in Makoto’s direction. He placed a second, teasing kiss just at the corner of Haru’s lips this time. That earned him a frustrated grunt, but Makoto was feeling selfish tonight. Though he could tell exactly what Haru wanted without a word of affirmation, he was hell-bent on making him say it out loud anyway.

“What’s wrong?” He lifted himself from their embrace, hovering over Haru with hands on either side of his head, a smirk weaseling onto his lips.

Haru merely grunted again, this time letting it peter off into a needy whine.

“I can’t read your mind _that_ well,” he leaned in, words ghosting just over the plush curve of Haru’s lips.

“Makoto,” the sound of his name uttered so breathlessly made him quiver. “ _Please.”_

Now _that,_ he understood perfectly.

“No Bourbon Haru tonight, right?” Makoto reassured, brushing the tips of their noses together. He would hate himself if he got carried away and ruined something so special _again_.

“No, it’s just me.”

Though spoken so simply, those words held more meaning to Makoto than he could have possibly imagined. It was _just Haru_. Just him and Haru; no alcohol, and no interruptions, and no prying eyes, and no band, and- no, it was absolutely nothing but them now.

Makoto let his head fall into the kiss, careful to hold his weight up so as to not crush the smaller man beneath him. It started out slow and exploratory; a tentative nip of teeth on lips, just a glimpse of tongues delving into each other’s mouths before retreating shyly, unused to the way it made the entire room feel dense with heat. They separated with a delicate smack, only to rejoin again mere moments after a staggered inhale of breath. There was nothing frantic in each kiss, the pressure of their connection no more firm than the way Haru’s hesitant fingertips made a trail up his back, sliding into the wisps of hair at the nape of Makoto’s neck. Neither of them dared to press any further than this in their cautionary exploration, aside from Makoto’s hand also taking solace in the silk of Haru’s dark fringe. He didn’t want to frighten the man below him, but it was hard to deny the temptation to let his hands wander elsewhere, more hopeful than ever to feel the heat of Haru’s skin against his own anywhere he could manage without being too brash.

Though his pulse was practically thrumming all throughout his body, Makoto managed to keep his voice a steady whisper when they parted once more after an enduring kiss. “I’m so happy you’re here.”

“Me too,” the raven sighed back.

“Thank you for coming to the show.”

“Nn, you…” Haru’s eyes trailed down the length of Makoto’s body for only a fleeting moment, making him itch with nerves again. “You looked good.”

In complete shock, Makoto couldn’t help but stare in disbelief at Haru’s words. He glanced down at himself too, certain there must have been a mistake. It’s not like he had been wearing anything special; just a white t-shirt and ripped black jeans, although he did accessorize (under Rin’s insistence, of course) with a simple silver necklace and layered leather bracelets. He’d never really thought of Haru as the kind of person to care much about fashion, but he supposed it was sort of cute that Haru had taken notice of it tonight.

“Y-you really think so? I was really just going for casual and clean with the t-shirt, but I guess you’re right-”

“Idiot,” Haru cut him off with a glare that shut Makoto up with ease. “I meant _you._ ”

“Me?”

Rolling his eyes and fighting a blush, Haru turned his head away towards the dimly lit window on the other side of the bed. “When you sing… your face is different.”

He wasn’t quite sure how to take that. Makoto furrowed his brows and asked, “Is that a good thing?”

Pressing his lips into a firm line, clearly trying to hold back the full extent of what he wanted to say, Haru supplied only a meek, “Yes.”

Makoto lowered himself onto his elbows, nuzzling his nose against his neck, now so temptingly exposed to him, and whined, “But what _kind_ of different?” He let his lips become preoccupied with Haru’s flushed skin while waiting for a response.

“I don’t want to say it.”

“Ne, Haru-chan, tell me,” he nipped at his earlobe, shivering when the hand laced into his hair tightened in response.

“I- I…”

“Please?” He traced a line of kisses up the curve of Haru’s ear, breath hot enough to make him fidget beneath Makoto’s weight. “I want to know what Haru-chan thinks of me.”

“It’s, nnh-” Haru cut off with a soft noise that sent tremors throughout Makoto’s entire being, leaning into the caress of his searching lips. “When I watch you… y-your eyes get heavy and dark.”

Makoto felt his own words slipping out of him before even realizing their weight. “That’s because I think of you when I sing.”

Haru gave a rattling sigh, his entire hold on Makoto tightening again and drawing their bodies closer yet. He finally allowed his hips to settle against the leaner ones beneath him, though he made sure not to let his groin press into Haru’s still. He wasn’t hard yet, but it was better to play things safe anyway.

“Makoto…”

“Haru?” Something about his name had sounded strained. “What’s wrong- woah!”

In a rustle of sudden movement, Makoto was flipped onto his back with a gasp, a strong pair of arms wrapped snuggly around his middle as Haru buried his face into his chest. “Sing for me,” he murmured, so gentle that it hardly came across as a demand. Makoto could barely contain the whine in his throat, absolutely devastated by how cute Haru was being right now.

“Oh, Haru,” he hugged the other man back, a soothing hand running up and down his back, wishing away the cotton fabric barrier between his fingertips and Haru’s tender skin. “What do you want me to sing?”

“Anything,” the raven insisted, muffled and shy but with so much conviction it nearly melted Makoto’s heart.

“Anything? Well, let me think then.” He considered maybe singing something from the show tonight, but that just wouldn’t do. Haru had seen the whole concert, and the set hadn’t been very romantic either, so he tried to think of other times where he had been picturing Haru in his mind while onstage. There was that concert, just a week ago in Shibuya, where he had done an acoustic set that seemed to set the crowd swooning. It was a weeknight, and Haru was working the closing shift at the restaurant, so he couldn’t make it. Makoto remembered wishing that it was Haru there with him, in that intimate little bar, where it was hard to even move without brushing up against someone, accidental or not. He remembered a request he had gotten that night, one that had nearly choked him up as his vision had been flooded with a sea of sapphire, unable to picture anyone else but the very man in his arms now.

Later than night, while restless in his lonely and cold bed, Makoto had dared to wonder what would have happened if Haru had been there. If he had heard that song and seen the way Makoto looked at him, would Haru have finally figured out what he had been trying to tell him all along?

The lyrics already on the tip of his tongue, Makoto took a calming breath before humming his pitch, settling comfortably into the pillows with Haru’s warmth now surrounding him.

“ _It’s a little but funny, this feeling in side, I’m not one of those who can easily hide…”_

The words came out soft and hesitant at first, nervous about singing for once in his life, but he pushed through, finding his confidence in the rhythm of Haru’s steady heartbeat thrumming against his own body.

“ _Don’t have much money but boy, if I did, I’d buy a big house where we both could live…”_

The further he got into the lyrics, the more he realized his choice was perfect. He wanted nothing more than to give Haru his song, to show him how he somehow created music inside of Makoto that even he couldn’t put into words. A feeling that meant so much more than anything money could buy, a feeling that left him lightheaded and dizzy with euphoria. Nanase Haruka, with his cool blue stare and his aloof attitude and his witty yet quiet sense of humor and his rare little smiles and his beautifully flushed pink cheeks was here _in his arms,_ and hopefully was falling for him just as hard as Makoto was falling for Haru back.

“ _So excuse me forgetting, but these things I do, you see I’ve forgotten if they’re green or they’re blue. Anyway, the thing is, what I really mean, yours are the sweetest eyes I’ve ever seen…”_

Makoto felt his throat start to tighten as he neared the end of the song, the words getting caught in his throat as they hit too close to home. Haru was looking up at him now, eyes piercing through the frame of his dark lashes and glistening in the moonlight, slowly destroying all of the brunet’s power to look away. He raised himself, crawling tentatively up Makoto’s body until they were face to face, each word slipping past Makoto’s lip only to be captured mere centimeters away by Haru’s. He leaned closer, pressing slow, impassioned kisses to Makoto’s cheeks, then his forehead before running his lips down the bridge of his nose, stopping just in time to savor the last few words out of the brunet’s mouth.

“ _I hope you don’t mind, I hope you don’t mind that I put down in words, how wonderful life is, now you’re in the world.”_

For the rest of the night, their bodies remained as close as their hearts, lips meeting lips and limbs tangling to snuggle impossibly tighter. Around 5 a.m., between burning kisses pressed to his chest and melodic sighs, Makoto wondered incredulously if anyone else in the entire living world could possibly give him a gift greater than Haru’s song.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it, and hope you aren't getting to bored without the smut. I'm really challenging myself here by holding off on it haha. It shall be here soon though, don't worry! 
> 
> Please leave some kudos or comment if you feel like screaming at me about these two dorks in luv
> 
> Check out my [makoharu blog](http://tachinanabananase.tumblr.com/) as well as my [personal blog](http://fikkifini.tumblr.com/) on tumblr! <3
> 
> EDIT 3/14/17: This fic is on a temporary hold while I open up my commissions on tumblr. If you would like to submit a prompt (and YES, it can be a prompt for this AU) please check out the [guidelines](http://tachinanabananase.tumblr.com/post/158422619449/free-ficoneshot-commissions#notes) on my blog. Thanks for your support!


	9. More Than Words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rin imparts his love wisdom on Haru, but neither of them seem to realize that it take more than just words for Makoto to understand what Haru wants from him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY STOP RIGHT THERE. BEFORE YOU READ THIS CHAPTER PLEASE GO LISTEN TO "MORE THAN WORDS" BY EXTEME ON YOUTUBE.
> 
> Alright, cool. Now that you have successfully completed the first step, let me talk about a few things:
> 
> First, MY TRIP TO ATLANTA WAS AWESOME SO THANKS TO THOSE WHO SUPPORTED ME FINANCIALLY WITH IT <3 Now that I'm back, I wont be so focused on commissions and I'll probably (hopefully) be able to update more. Depending on how the last 6 weeks of school go too.
> 
> Secondly, ONCE AGAIN, this chapter did not go where i wanted it to go. I had an entirely different completed one that I absolutely hated, and I just couldn't stop editing it and making changes because my writing was really choppy and uninteresting. Anyway, I scrapped that chapter and did a rewrite, entirely fresh, with the only plan being "I want Makoto in a leather jacket". Well, that ended up becoming almost irrelevant by the end, but he'll be back wearing it in the next one, so don't worry.
> 
> Third and most important, a wild plot has appeared and this probably wont just be a series of one-shots anymore. Lol oops. I got a lot of thinking to do now so we'll see how it all works out...
> 
> ANYWAY we'll talk after the chapter. Enjoy!

“Haru? Hey, fishfry, I’m talkin’ to you!”

Rin’s thoroughly pissed off voice jerked him out of his daze. He looked away from the blur of cars outside the window and caught the redhead’s angry stare.

“You know you’re supposed to watch the road when you’re driving,” he pointed out.

“Yeah, I fuckin’ know,” Rin glanced ahead and jerked the wheel just in time to swerve around an unsettlingly large truck. “But I’m not paying you to be my backseat driver.”

“You’re not paying me _anything.”_

“Yeah well,” he shrugged, “either way you owe me your attention. And some details.”

Haru huffed another annoyed sigh, running out of ways to deflect Rin’s probing questions. “I told you, we… kissed,” he trailed off, still uncertain about the words coming out of his mouth. It was true; they _definitely_ had kissed. But the extent of it… well, he still hadn’t quite come to terms with that much yet.

“What are we, ten? Haru, I promise I can handle hearing more than that. Makoto may be like a brother to me, but you’re my best friend,” he smacked a friendly pat onto Haru’s knee, paired with a sharp-toothed grin. “I’m all ears when it comes to you getting some. Here, I’ll share first: Last night Sousuke and I fucke-“

“I don’t want to know!” Haru shot, hands protecting his ears from further misery. “I don’t. Want. To know.”

“Alright, alright, then spill. What happened between you and Makoto?”

Haru groaned, scrubbing his face with his palms before working up the courage to explain. Like what kind of details? Like how Makoto’s lips are softer and smoother than a rose petal, or like how his tongue tasted like toothpaste and lingering cinnamon whiskey? Or maybe he wanted to know about the tongue ring, because _that_ certainly was a surprise-

“It was nice. He’s… really warm?”

Rin practically slammed on the breaks, luckily just before a red light anyway. “Warm?! What the fuck Haru what does that even _mean._ ”

“I dunno,” the raven shrugged, defensive. He sputtered for words. “It was- hot, you know?”

Glancing over, Rin arched a suggestive brow and leered, “Ohhhh, I gotchya. He was getting you all hot and bothered, huh?”

“No, like. Hot. We were wearing a lot of clothes so-“

“God damnit Haru,” Rin dropped his forehead to the steering wheel, grumbling. “You two are infuriatingly hopeless. I go out of my way, offer to take you with us to the concert, get him a _separate hotel room_ just for you two, I even-“

“So you DID do that on purpose?”

Rin scoffed. “Yeah no shit I did it! Took some convincing ‘cuz Nagisa didn’t want me to use the band budget, but once he realized Makoto wouldn’t have to third wheel in his room with Rei, well…” he gave a smug chuckle. “The guy was practically throwing his credit card at me after that.”

“Nice,” Haru praised flatly.

“Anyway,” Rin sang as he launched the car into motion again, the light flicking back to green, “so you guys just dry humped then? Pft, sounds just like the good ol’ high school days.”

“We didn’t- we _just kissed_. Like, made out and stuff for a while. That’s all,” he corrected, gritting his teeth and gripping the door handle for security as Rin took an unnecessarily sharp turn.

“A while?”

“Yeah, like… a few hours or something.”

That had Rin choking for air. “You made out for a few _hours!?_ How the fuck- Jesus Christ on a stick, and you did nothing else that whole time?”

“We cuddled a little, but-”

“I mean nothing _sexual_ Haru! Sexual things!”

Rin’s doubtful shrieking had Haru raising his voice too now. “No! I mean, it was nice, all I wanted to do was kiss anyway.”

“Well gee Haru, did your selfish ass think about the fact that maybe you left Makoto with the worst case of blue balls in human history after that?”

Haru’s argument lost all momentum. Truthfully, no, he hadn’t really considered that. He assumed that if Makoto had wanted anything more, he would have said something. “I… I, no, I didn’t but-“

Rin shook his head dismally. “You know Makoto is too nice for his own damn good. Of course he didn’t ask for more, idiot. He was waiting for you to make the move.”

“Well maybe I didn’t want more, Rin,” Haru spat, getting more than a little annoyed with his friend’s ignorance. “Blue balls isn’t a medical condition anyway.” He glared out the window again as a stubborn silence settled between them, only interrupted by the ticking of a turn signal. Finally, Rin gave a defeated sigh.

“What _do_ you want Haru?”

Ah, yes. The million-dollar question that even Haru didn’t know the answer to anymore. Of course kissing and touching and sex sounded great, and even before Haru had met Makoto, such guilty fantasies involving the singer had invaded his mind a number of times. But talking with him, spending time together, and growing so close had changed things. And now, all Haru knew was that he wanted more of _that._

“Him. I just want to be with him,” he sighed into the window, the cool glass calming his flushing face.

“Well then tell him,” Rin said effortlessly, as if it were that simple.

“Rin, you don’t- it’s not that easy for me.”

“Uh, no, pretty sure it is. You just go up to him and you say ‘Hey Makoto, I want to make you my long-term sugar Daddy if you know what I mean.’”

“Could you please be serious for just one millisecond of your life,” Haru pulled away from the window shoot him a look, folding his arms over his chest. Rin flashed him an innocent stare in return, waiting patiently for Haru to continue. “You’re part of this world,” Haru explained. He gestured to the red leather interior around them, “The cars, the hotels, the money. Being practically famous. It’s your life now, and it’s his life too. But me… I’m not part of this.”

“Haru…”

“I don’t belong with you guys-” Rin opened his mouth to argue, but was shut up with a finger. “No, I don’t mean I shouldn’t be your best friend. I just mean that Makoto could find someone… better suited I guess. Someone who belongs in the lights with him.”

“You really are an idiot, Haru,” the redhead grumbled after a thoughtful silence. He turned into the parking lot behind a vintage brick theatre, their performance venue for the evening, and parked before taking a moment to collect himself. “Look, I’m not saying this because you’re my best friend, okay? ‘Cuz you know I’m not afraid to be mean as shit to you when I want. But I need you to understand that _you are worth every second of his time too._ ”

“I… Rin, I don’t know…” The doubts he had been feeling all week were finally surfacing up in his throat, bubbling his speech.

“You are every bit as talented as he is, and every bit as deserving of love. Since the day he met you, Makoto has done nothing but brag to me. He brags to me _about my own damn best friend_. Tells me how great you are as if I don’t already know,” he gave a breathless laugh, shaking his head. “You two are so fuckin’ destined for each other, it hurts my brain to even hear you suggest otherwise. So just be real with him, okay? Makoto wouldn’t turn you down, trust me.”

“I don’t want a pity date from him,” Haru groused. Despite the encouragement, he couldn’t help let his mind fall back into uncertainty. Rin was right: Makoto would say yes to a date with Haru, but that’s because he’d say yes to _anyone._ Because he’s just too damn nice to say no- which made him impossible to read sometimes. Even with all the signs, even with the kissing and confessions and all the reassurance, Haru’s insecurities were still getting the best of him.

“Whatever, Haru. Think what you want, but do me a favor,” Rin turned to him, sincerity burning in his ruby gaze, “don’t break his heart. And more importantly, _don’t let yours get broken either._ I don’t think I can take any more lovesick puppy setlists or mopey best friends, alright?” He ruffled Haru’s hair, a warm fondness in his sharktoothed smirk. Haru merely nodded, his chest heavy with the weight of their conversation.

And that weight seemed to follow him well after they left the car and settled in at the venue an hour later. Makoto was traveling with Sousuke from an interview in downtown Tokyo, so they wouldn’t be at there until thirty minutes before the show. Which is why Rin had convinced Haru to come with him early and help set up their equipment, since they were down a few hands now. His compensation was, naturally, open bar privileges. Which Haru had taken full advantage of the moment Rin suggested he do a sound check with the microphones while he checked the amps. Talking alone had required some liquid courage, but with the help of three additional shots on his side, Rin was now trying to convince Haru do a sing test.

“You gotta do it singing too, sounds different than regular talking so we have to check levels,” he reasoned while Haru sucked on the straw of his pleasantly strong whiskey and Coke.

“Nuh-uh, don’t sing,” Haru shot back, although he was still talking straight into the mic, amused by the sounds of clinking ice cubs ringing through the speakers. His initial nerves had melted away, but the adrenaline of standing center stage under an ornamental proscenium, with the view of an expansive dance floor and bar-height tables, had kept him intrigued. At first it was just fun, watching Rin fiddle with the instruments and tweak their setup from up close. Even talking into the mic hadn’t been as scary as he feared, since Rin kept up casual conversation with him so it wasn’t as awkward. But singing by himself? Hell no, he’d leave that job to the professionals.

“Come on Haru, there’s no one here but the techs. They don’t care if you suck.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” he snorted. “Don’t you sing backup? Just do it yourself.”

“Okay, you caught me,” Rin admitted with a strum of his electric guitar, “I just wanted to hear you sing. See if it can be added to the list of infinite things you’re good at.”

“You know what, just ‘cuz you said that, I’ll do it.” Haru pulled the mic off its stand a little forcefully, eager to prove Rin wrong. “Everyone thinks I’m so good at whatever I do, well I’ve got news for you,” he pointed to his best friend with a slight wobble, “it’s not true. Now what do you want me to sing?”

“Freebird,” Rin shouted back, unnecessarily loud from his perch on an amp.

“A song I know the words to, please.”

After a dramatic pause for thought, he suggested more seriously, “More Than Words? It’s practically a capella already.”

“By Extreme?” He chewed his lip in consideration before declaring, “Yeah, works for me.”

“I got your backup right here,” the redhead picked up an acoustic guitar that had been resting on a stand next to him. “I’ll make you sound pretty even if you do suck. Unlikely, but just in case.”

Rin gave him a few chords before leading Haru into the song, a perfectly amused grin on his face while Haru mumbled the starting lyrics with uncertainty.

“ _Sayin’ I love you is not the words I want to hear from you…”_

“Louder, sound guys can’t hear you!”

He pushed out the next part with more force, slowly building up his confidence with each passing measure after that. By the time Haru got to the first chorus, the shaking in his voice was hardly noticeable while technicians in the sound booth adjusted his volumes. Rin gave him a hand with the background harmonies, covering up any mistakes with practiced ease. He was almost getting comfortable up there, overcome for a split second by a familiar sense of freedom. That is, until an even more familiar voice from behind him joined in on their private concert unexpectedly.

“ _More that words is all I ever needed you to show_ …”

“Oh shit,” Rin snickered, dropping his harmony but still strumming as the raven spun around uneasily, his eyes landing on none other than Tachibana Makoto’s.

“ _Then you wouldn’t have to say that you love me, ‘cuz I’d already know…”_

Continuing the lyrics despite Haru’s paralyzed silence, Makoto shot him a coy smile as he sauntered towards center stage, hands nestled in his pockets casually. He was dressed flashier than usual in a fitted leather jacket, paired with an impossibly clingy white shirt underneath and equally tight dark jeans. His piercings glinted in the bright lights as he approached, wetting his lips before continuing the song in earnest. The sight was breathtaking, drawing Haru in to the mysterious and sexy aura steaming off of Makoto today.

Rin transitioned into a guitar solo and strummed away nonchalantly, obviously trying not to intrude on the moment. He couldn’t quite hide the delighted smirk on his lips though while he hummed to himself quietly, eavesdropping all the while.

“You know,” Makoto murmured then, his emerald gaze riddled with curiosity, “you could have just asked if you wanted to borrow my mic.”

“I- I didn’t-“

“I’m not surprised though,” he continued as if Haru hadn’t spoken at all, giving him an over-exaggerated sigh and a lopsided smile. “You really are good at anything you try, huh? Maybe we should add singing lessons to the list too.”

“That’s not true,” Haru grumbled defiantly, tearing his mesmerized gaze away from Makoto’s distractingly broad shoulders, eyes searching the wood floors instead.

“Sing again,” the brunet insisted, ducking his head to peer past Haru’s bangs. “You’re better than you think.”

Haru shook his head adamantly. There was no way he was going to voluntarily sing in front of the most talented musician he knew. That was just asking for a panic attack at this point.

“Haru, trust me,” Makoto’s voice dipped even lower, close enough that his breath tickled the tip of the raven’s nose. “I like your voice. Please, let me hear it again.”

Makoto gave him one last encouraging nod before jumping back into the music, finding where they had left off with some assistance from Rin. Haru couldn’t bear to look away, transfixed on how forest green eyes begged him so sweetly. It was impossible to refuse. Before he could question it again, Haru’s lips were forming words of their own accord, taking the lower melody while Makoto found a harmony to compliment him.

“ _What would you do if my heart was torn in two? More than words to show you feel that your love for me is real…”_

Sliding the mic from Haru’s hand, Makoto placed it back on the stand and moved closer, twining their fingers together while their voices filled the air with soft music. He guided Haru’s palm to his throat, pressing it on the side where he could feel every vibration resonating in Makoto’s body. With another encouraging nod, he urged Haru to keep his hand there and feel the shifts through his own body too. It was incredibly intimate; a kind of closeness Haru hadn’t expected from something as unfamiliar as singing.

“ _What would you say if I took those words away? Then you couldn’t make things new just by saying I love you…”_

Then Rin was back, taking over the quiet melody after giving Makoto a wink. One that did not go unnoticed by Haru, even in his tipsy state.

“Did you feel that?”

“Yeah, it was nice,” Haru said dumbly, still a bit dazed in the aftermath of the moment.

“Sometimes that’s the best way to teach singing. When someone else can match you pitch through vibrations rather than sound,” Makoto’s eyes searched Haru’s anxiously, “you resonate together. You make them feel exactly what you’re feeling.”

“Oh,” Haru breathed, feeling his eyelids droop as his focus landed solely on delicious looking lips. He took a step even closer, the hand on Makoto’s neck falling to his chest, admiring the firmness beneath his fingertips.

“Haru, I…” The singer swallowed thickly, lips parting around unspoken words. His eyes darted uncertainly to Rin though, and he seemed to swallow whatever it was he had wanted to say.

Suddenly the conversation from the car ride flooded Haru’s brain in a staggering wave. “Makoto we gotta talk,” he blurted as a result, forgetting any sense of tact in the process.

The brunet’s dark brows furrowed with concern. “Oh, um. Okay, we’ll talk later. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. You’re _really fine._ I just… have something to let you know.”

“Alright, later then,” Makoto whispered, pressing a barely there kiss to Haru’s cheek. To anyone else, it probably looked like they were just sharing a secret, if they happened to overlook Makoto’s hand stroking down Haru’s side as anything but friendly.

“You’re here early,” Rin had given up on finishing the song, tuning his guitar meticulously now instead. The look he gave Makoto read as something else though, something Haru wasn’t mentally aware enough to decipher at the moment. He had other things to worry about, like the possessive grip of hands on his hips making his head spin, for example.

“Interview was shorter than we expected, so we beat rush hour traffic. They just wanted a few quotes about the tour for new hype,” Makoto shrugged. He nodded towards the backstage door, “Sousuke went to go take a nap before house opens.”

“Tch,” Rin grumbled, hopping off the amp and rolling up the sleeves of his black tee. “Guy can’t even manage to come say hi to his perfect fuckin’ boyfriend before passing out. Not even a ‘thank you’ for carrying in his heavy ass fuckin’ amp and pedals in. I’ll show him how to straighten out those priorities.”

“Go easy on him,” Makoto urged, his volume dropping to concerned-parent level. “He got into it again with Nagisa on the drive here.”

Rin’s stony expression fractured, his eyes flooding with worry but his frown steady. “Again? Christ. I’ll go talk to him.”

Haru glanced curiously between the two of them, entirely lost. Had he really heard that right? Sousuke- brick-headed, bag of meat _Yamazaki Sousuke-_ picking a fight with their stubborn manager, who specifically plays by the rules of “whoever is loudest must be right”? He had a hard time imagining the stoic bass player getting into any kind of interesting conversation, let alone picking a fight with Nagisa. “Okay wait. What happened between them?” Haru managed to ask through his minor stupor.

Makoto hushed him too quickly for it to not sound suspicious though. “It’s nothing. They just… they disagree on some management choices.”

“Like what? You seem to be doing pretty well, I don’t see what could-”

“It’s none of your concern, Haru,” Rin stopped him with a cold glare, one that Haru hadn’t seen for years, probably since they had first started living together. He ruffled at that, returning the glare with equal force.

Rin broke the contact first though, choosing to address Makoto instead. “I’ll calm him down. He’ll be ready by go time, don’t worry.”

“Thanks.”

Rin stalked offstage, a fist clenched at his side before disappearing through the back door with a huff.

“Um. What was that about?” Haru started slowly, raising a questioning brow at Makoto, who was still spacing out in the direction of Rin’s exit.

“It’s nothing, I promise,” he murmured, reassuring smile just short of reaching his eyes. Very aware of Makoto’s tense fingers still digging into his side, Haru pushed again for the truth.

“You know, I don’t take promises very lightly,” reaching for the lapels of Makoto’s jacket, he dragged their chests together with a pout. Makoto wrapped his arms around Haru’s waist in return and sighed, tilting down to nudge his forehead with his nose.

“I know. Which is why you should trust me when I say it’s nothing for you to worry about.”

“I can tell _you’re_ worried about it though.”

Makoto hummed fondly, burying his nose in Haru’s fringe and inhaling. “You’re more observant that you let on.”

“You’re not as good at hiding it as you think.”

“Mmm,” he took one of Haru’s hands and brought it to his lips, kissing lightly all over his palm. “Guess not.”

“You shouldn’t do that here. The sound guys…” he glanced up at the booth, unable to see the figures inside but anxious nonetheless.

“Right, sorry.”

Haru was left with instant regret as Makoto moved to a safe distance away, his cheeks a soft pink. He eyed the sound booth with a meek smile, then let his gaze fall to the floor, clearly disappointed about something.

“Sorry, I didn’t-” he stuttered, because how do you explain to someone that you do want them to keep touching you but only if they _mean the touches_ and not just because they want to like, touch you too? “I- I want you to… um,” he tried again, but not even his alcohol-reduced inhibitions would let the words out.

What was he trying to say anyway? I want you to be mine? That still wasn’t enough to convey his feelings. My what, lover? That would sound worse than stupid coming out of his mouth. Boyfriend, then? That’s what Rin had called himself earlier, and it made perfect sense. It sounded right for Rin and Sousuke, who were all fire and passion and whatever else you wanted to call that gross eye thing they did any time they were drunk and thought they were being subtle about it.

Whatever this was though, it was different. Sure, they had kissed for hours in that hotel room a week ago, but since then? Makoto hadn’t been nearly as forward, and Haru had been admittedly even worse. They had hardly exchanged more than a brush of fingers and a few timid smiles before today. Even their lesson last night had been impressively, if not disappointingly tame. It seemed like for as fast as things had sped up, they were now slowing down twice as quickly, leaving Haru more desperate for affirmation that ever before. Which was sad, because like he said: they had made out, _for hours._

The point is, they weren’t all sex and confidence like Rin and Sousuke. Those two already have each other; it’s a sealed deal, clear as day. Makoto and Haru though?

Well, he had no idea what they have at this point. Besides a lot of really confusing feelings.

“Haru, if…” Makoto bit his lip, but continued uncertainly. “If you don’t want anyone else to see us, then I wont-”

“No it’s not-”

“I’m just not really sure because I didn’t know if we’re-”

“We’re what?”

“Mako-chaaaaan!”

Nagisa’s shrill voice pierced the air, echoing deafeningly from the room’s acoustics.

“Bad timing as usual,” Makoto grumbled and turned away sharply, his frown entirely out of character for his typical sunny nature. “What is it, Nagisa?”

The blond stormed onto the stage with his hands poised on hips. He hopped up onto one of the smaller amps, successfully making himself a mere inch taller than Makoto. “What are you doing out here? House opens in fifteen.”

“Sorry, I had something to talk to Haru about-”

“Ah ah! I expect better from you, Mister Band Captain,” Nagisa wagged a condescending finger in their direction. “You can play boyfriend after you finish getting ready.”

Both of them visibly flinched at his word choice.

“N-nagisa, don’t just say stuff like that!”

“What’s the problem?” He grouched, straightening out the cuffs of his magenta sleeves. “Don’t tell me you two are _still_ pretending like nothing is going on.”

Haru chanced a glance over at Makoto, who looked just about as uncomfortable as a kid walking in on his parents for the first time, mouth agape and beet red with embarrassment as he stared back mutely at Nagisa. He shifted nervously on his own feet, not trusting himself to answer for Makoto and biting down on his lip instead.

“Whatever,” Nagisa waved their silence off as if he could care less. Which he probably could. “Anyway, I wanted to talk to you about something, but if Haru-chan is more important…”

“It’s fine, we were just finishing up,” Makoto insisted, all business, which really pissed Haru off. They certainly were _not_ finished, in his opinion, but Makoto was already walking away, a shameful grimace on his face that only Haru was wary enough to catch.

“Sorry, Haru. I’ll see you after the show, okay?”

“Yeah,” he muttered, doing his best not to let Makoto see his frustration.

The brunet looked unconvinced. “Promise?”

Rolling his eyes, Haru couldn’t help but breathe a dry laugh. “Yeah, I promise.”

Makoto unwillingly trailed after Nagisa to the backstage entrance, entirely unenthusiastic as the blonde began whispering something urgently, unaware of Makoto’s distraction. He threw one last longing glance over his shoulder, flashing Haru an all to brief smile before the metal door slammed shut behind him.

And then Haru was alone. Nothing but the hallow air, an empty stage, and one last, desperate sip of whiskey Coke to keep him company.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you like it? Yes, no, anything at all?  
> It started out as kind of humorous, because how can you not with Rin, but it gets pretty dramatic by the end. Obviously Makoto knows something that he's not telling Haru...
> 
> Anyway, I chose this song for the chapter because I thought it really expressed Makoto's hesitance to label themselves. "More Than Words" is about using your body to express love instead of just relying on words to convey how you feel. Yes, the implications are pretty sexual, but I still think it can be interpreted as something more innocent that fits into how Makoto is feeling about Haru at this point.
> 
> Obviously there's some pretty bad miscommunication going on between them right now. For Haru, he wants to hear directly what Makoto wants. Actions aren't enough (ironically, since he has a hard time verbally expressing feelings for himself). He needs it to be spelled out word for word, since his doubt about their relationship makes him question the depth of it. Does Makoto truly like him, or is he just having a good time for fun?
> 
> And with Makoto, it's the opposite. He's very dependent on physical reassurance, so he reads into every little touch or look and tries to gauge Haru's feelings with that. That's why whenever Haru is being modest, he misunderstands it as wanting distance rather than Haru just being nervous about intimacy without having established clearly what they both want. He's searching for Haru to reciprocate physically and to express that intimacy is okay, whether that means being told out loud or Haru making the first move instead. 
> 
> Long story short, they are on entirely different wavelengths. Haru has to learn that for Makoto, touching is his way of expressing care. And on the other hand, Makoto has to recognize that just touch isn't always enough for others. So, mix all that confusion in with some shady band managers and a leather jacket, and we'll see what kind of a story we can get cooking now...
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading my ramble! If you're enjoying the story, please leave comments and kudos <3 Check out my [makoharu blog](http://tachinanabananase.tumblr.com/) as well as my [personal blog](http://fikkifini.tumblr.com/) on tumblr! <3


	10. Hard To Say I'm Sorry / Get Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His eyes darted up to the stage, where he caught the heady sight of Makoto licking his lips, stroking his hand suggestively down the microphone stand while he serenaded. Who the hell was that man up there? Certainly not the gentle, compassionate singer that Haru had been smitten by so long ago. Was that side of him just a façade, or was the erotic performer that Haru hardly recognized on stage right now the real character?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well. It's been a while, hasn't it?  
> I'm so sorry for the unexpected haitus, everyone. In the past five months, I've graduated from college, moved back home with my family, and started a full time job as a manager, but I'll be honest: I've had this chapter written since April. It has changed drastically since the first draft though, with dozens of edits and several beta readers to look it over, so that's part of why it took me so long to publish it. The other part is purely due to my insecurities as a writer and storyteller, but we can talk about that later (ʘ‿ʘ✿)
> 
> Also, if you've never heard Chicago's "Hard To Say I'm Sorry/Get Away", it's a classic and I really liked the title of it for this chapter.

Now this was just unfair.

As if having Makoto dragged away from him earlier in the middle of a very important conversation wasn’t already frustrating enough. Now Haru had to sit at his lonely little table, very much needy and surrounded only by the company of empty cocktail glasses, and watch helplessly while the singer ground his hips into the mic stand. Repeatedly. And with too much enthusiasm for Haru’s poor- and did he mention _very_ much needy- heart to take.

He wanted sex.

So no, it wasn’t really as simple as that, but at least he could pinpoint exactly what that longing, deep ache in his stomach was all about. Whenever he was around Makoto, it was like his body was alight from fingertips to toes, itching to be close to the sultry, bronzed skin that he craved. Truthfully, he didn’t have the slightest clue about sex, aside from what goes in where. But he was definitely becoming familiar with spending restless nights in his bed, unable to sleep until he would give in to the ache, pleasuring himself to the thought of those guitar-string-calloused fingers touching him back.

As dizzyingly delicious as his fantasies were though, the actual prospect of getting that intimate with someone was concerning, to put it lightly. Especially when Haru had an impossibly hard time believing that that same someone was somehow getting romantically involved with him in the first place. Of the few times they had ventured into intimate territory, it didn’t take long for Haru to realize that sex was undoubtedly going to be important to him. He felt terrified in the best kinds of ways when they kissed, or when Makoto’s hands eagerly explored new territories of his body, but it left him feeling more vulnerable than a kayak out at sea in the middle of a hurricane. And while a part of him wanted to dive headfirst into the storm, another part of him still fretted over the dangers of jumping in too deep, too soon.

Even still, seeing a riled up, pelvic thrusting, leather-clad Makoto onstage got his blood boiling, all hurricane metaphors aside.

“Sometimes I really wonder what he was doing for money before Rin found him.”

Haru nearly leapt into the air like a frightened cat, bristling at the voice too close behind him.

Kou didn’t bother to hide her amusement at his scare and let out a sharp laugh. “Sorry,” she half-shouted over the music, “don’t know why I assumed you heard me come over. Clearly you’re a little distracted by other things.”

“I’m not distracted by anything,” he challenged, somehow finding the sheer will to tear his gaze away from Makoto’s rolling pelvis to address her directly.

“Sure. And I’m guessing that’s just some water on your chin and not drool?”

Haru swiped at his face with the back of his hand self-consciously, entirely missing the joke.

“Seriously though,” she sighed dreamily, leaning an elbow on Haru’s table and eyeing Makoto lustily. The raven hoped his grimace wasn’t too obvious. “He’s got a body like a god, you have to wonder how he got in shape like that. Pole dancing does that to you.”

He crinkled his nose at the thought. Somehow, he just couldn’t imagine Makoto having the guts to be any kind of exotic dancer, let alone one who could make good use of a pole. The guy could hardly even kiss without getting all flustered and giggly.

“You really think he was a dancer?”

Scoffing, Kou flashed him a grin eerily reminiscent of her older brother. “No way. He may know how to move his hips, but he can’t _really_ dance for shit. Besides,” she took a long sip of the cocktail in her hand, a cheery orange concoction garnished with a pineapple, “he was actually a swimmer. Told Rin he went to school on a scholarship for it, but wasn’t good enough to ever qualify for the Olympics. So he dropped out.”

Haru had known about him quitting school, but he had no idea Makoto’s failed dream as an aspiring Olympic athlete had forced him to do so. “Oh. I didn’t know that,” he commented coolly, despite the rush of uncertainty that slammed his gut. Come to think of it, there were a lot of things he was realizing he still didn’t know about Makoto. Like where he went to college, or anything about his family, aside from the fact that he had twin siblings and a mom and dad. Guilt struck his chest as he slumped over his watered-down drink. How had he allowed himself to be so ignorant of Makoto’s past, other than the simple fact that he was born twenty-two years ago in some little fishing town called Iwatobi?

“Haru,” Kou’s concern seeped into his name, her tone not unlike a businesswoman ready to make her pitch. “I don’t mean to intrude on your private life, but Rin told me about you two.”

Haru scoffed bitterly. “What about us? There’s not much to tell.”

“He told me you were head over heels for Makoto.”

“And you _believed_ him?”

“No, but I saw the way you were looking at Makoto a minute ago. _That_ , I believe.”

At that, Haru simply chose to plead the fifth, turning away from her with a huff.

“Alright, I get it, there’s nothing between you two,” she sighed sarcastically at his stubbornness, clearly unconvinced, but continued anyway. “I just… I feel like I should say something because I’m his manager and because I don’t want either of you to get hurt. You’re like a second brother to me, Haru, and I’m just trying to protect you.”

“What do you mean?” Haru scowled. Why would Kou think he needed to be protected from Makoto, of all people? If anything, she should be protecting the singer from him, since Haru no doubt lacked the class to be a suitable partner for a rockstar.

“Fuck, that didn’t come out right.”

“Well what was it supposed to come out as?”

She pinched the bridge of her nose with her sharply manicured nails. “I don’t know how to say this Haru. I- I thought he would have told you by now.”

This ominous, vague talk was really starting to piss him off. “Tell me _what_ , Kou?”

“Look, in a way, it’s my business only because it’s the band’s business as a whole, but,” she chewed her lip, choosing her words carefully, “whatever is going on between you two is _Makoto’s_ business, and if he hasn’t said anything yet, I’m assuming it’s for a very good reason.”

“This is ridiculous,” he growled, doing all he could to withhold a temper tantrum. As much as Kou thought of him as a brother, he thought of her as a sister too. He couldn’t bear to yell at her, especially because that would earn him an ass-kicking straight into the sun from Rin if the redhead ever found out.

“I’m sorry, Haru. I didn’t- I just want you to be happy. You know I care about you and Makoto, and if he makes you happy then that’s great,” she placed a soothing hand on his arm, sensing his growing distress. “But please be careful, okay?”

If she was just worried about Haru getting his heart broken by the man of his dreams, that was nothing new. Haru had mulled over those consequences dozens of times now. He had no idea how to deal with dating someone that millions of other people in Japan had eyes for. And okay, yeah that was kind of scary because at any moment, at any concert, on any street, Makoto could easily, probably without even trying, find someone better. That thought alone had struck Haru with anxiety every day since their first kiss. After that he had put up a wall, withholding his strongest desires to protect his heart from being inevitably shattered in the end. Because Makoto _would_ find someone else. Eventually, he would realize that he could do better, and he would move on from Haru soon enough. After all, there was nothing committing them together in the first place. No spoken words of fidelity, nothing to indicate they had any sort of an exclusive relationship. Haru was probably arrogant to assume that whatever was going on between them was more than just sexual desire anyway. Was that what Kou was trying to warn him about?

He knew little to nothing about Makoto’s romantic past; maybe he was just a smooth-talking player and she was trying to protect Haru from being just another one of Makoto’s conquests. However, it was hard to imagine Makoto as the kind of person who manipulated others for the shallow satisfaction of lust. Haru _wanted_ to believe in him, to believe that his feelings were true and that Makoto was willing to be as invested in this as he was himself. But looking back on the time they had spent together intimately, it seemed like all Makoto wanted to do was touch rather than talk, avoiding the subject of what they were entirely.

That incriminating reality made Haru nearly sick to his stomach. His eyes darted up to the stage, where he caught the heady sight of Makoto licking his lips, stroking his hand suggestively down the microphone stand while he serenaded. Who the hell was that man up there? Certainly not the gentle, compassionate singer that Haru had been smitten by so long ago. Was that side of him just a façade, or was the erotic performer that Haru hardly recognized on stage right now the real character?

“Haru? Are you okay?”

Kou’s concerned gaze found his, her ruby eyes searching.

“Yeah, it’s nothing. I’m going to the bathroom.” He stood before she could pry any further, nearly knocking his drink over in his haste. He didn’t hear her apologetic goodbye as he stormed out of the theater and into the venue’s ornate lobby.

The bathrooms were down the hall to his right, but Haru decidedly made a turn towards a doorway labeled _Authorized Personnel Only_ to his left instead _._

He was going to get down to the truth once and for all.

* * *

 

After spending over two decades on this Earth, Makoto had always thought- actually, he was quite positive- that he would never find anything that brought him a more thrilling euphoria than creating music. He loved the satisfactory ache in his throat after singing a full set, and the way the skin of his fingertips stung with every strum of his guitar strings. He loved the versatility, how music could evoke whatever emotion it called upon: sorrow, pain, love, anger, arousal, joy, a medley of each at any given moment. He loved that no matter what, he could always find a song to steady himself, to resonate with. Music was therapeutic to him in a way that neither doctor nor any drug could ever provide for him, although he did crave its soothing effects on occasion. More than anything else, he loved that it would always be there. Even if someone were to take away all of his instruments, he would still have his voice, his constant companion, ready at a moment’s notice whenever Makoto needed the music again. Even if someone took away all the songs in the universe, he would always be able to hum a new tune to replace the ones lost. He could rely on music, he could trust it, he could confide his every emotion into it and it would never refuse. He had never found anyone or anything he could do the same with.

Now, after spending over two decades on this Earth, Makoto had finally found something that brought him all of the things that music offered to him, and its name was Nanase Haruka.

And that’s the name that clouded his head even after he trudged offstage after an exhausting encore. The same name that had invaded his every thought during the concert too, almost enough of a distraction to make Makoto _forget_ he was creating music in the first place. Of course, it didn’t help that Haru was doing that incredibly seductive thing where he broodily sits at a secluded table, sipping on a burning cocktail all the while practically paralyzing Makoto with his icy, intrigued glances through his dark lashes. Makoto had a hard time directing his attention anywhere else during the performance, his enraptured stare always lured right back to the beautiful boy with the raven hair and starlit eyes and breathtakingly tight jeans, playing coy in the shadows.

Even when Haru was completely out of sight, Makoto still couldn’t quite shake the feeling of his heavy sapphire gaze while he pulled his guitar strap over his head, securing the instrument on a stand just beyond the curtain legs offstage. He swiped a rag out of his back pocket, mopping the sweat from his forehead and neck with it while avoiding collisions with hurried crewmembers, already immersed in the frantic load-out process despite the show ending less than a minute ago. Slipping past the slew of employees, Makoto broke free from the impending chaos into the dressing room hallway. He huffed a relieved sigh. At least he could find some peace and quiet back here, hopefully enough for him to focus on something other than the current object of his desire. Besides, work wasn’t quite over yet. With dread, Makoto remembered the inconspicuous black contact case that would inevitably be waiting for him, next to a fresh water bottle and a note from his manager, on his dressing room counter.

Shit, he’d almost forgotten it was his turn to sell tonight. As much as he dreaded it, after how poorly their meeting went earlier, it was the least he could do. Makoto chewed the inside of his cheek bitterly, taking his sweet time getting to the dressing room now, as if that would make the small package sitting on the counter magically disappear by the time he got there.

Selling cocaine to a bunch of strung out, wasted fans couldn’t sound more undesirable to him right now- and that was saying something, considering he was the one vehemently opposed to the idea from the very start over two years ago. All he had wanted was a night with Haru: some focused, dedicated time for them to try to move past the unexpected and somewhat awkward hitch that had developed in their relationship. This, he mused with a frustrated huff, kicked at the ground, was certainly _not_ how he wanted this night to go.

He could go on and on, reassuring himself uselessly that this shouldn’t even be his problem in the first place, but that could only placate his own conscience so much. Yes, he was the one who had vowed to Nagisa that he would _never_ get involved in it. The others, at first, had been more willing to help after accepting that their other options were scant, but Makoto remained firm in his stance, unable to accept the new conditions of their work so easily. More than anything, he had been hurt by Nagisa’s decision to put fame before the band’s safety. Cutting a deal with Seijuro Mikoshiba, one of Japan’s most reliable private lenders _and_ leader of the notorious gang called Purgatory, had been a desperate move by their band manager, who was having a hell of a time scraping together enough money so that the band could finally get into a studio and record. Good intentions or not, the deal contractually bound them to Purgatory and left them with a debt of over fifty-five million yen.

A debt that, even with the help of their rapidly growing album sales and income, Silver Lining Dreamer could not pay off solely from their own earnings.

That’s how the dealing started in the first place. Mikoshiba had anticipated the problem, recognizing it as a common one among his other clients, and offered Nagisa the option to “service” the gang as a method of repayment. No one in the band could have anticipated that “service” would involve doling out baggies of white powder in exchange for wads of wrinkled, sweat-stained cash in the back of bars and night clubs after their gigs. Nagisa chalked the horror of it all up to the nature of the business; Makoto, on the other hand, saw it as nothing more their own personal, self-inflicted nightmare.

For months after they had found out about the deal, Makoto had seethed about it internally, torn between the thrill of their band’s rapidly growing success with the completion of their album, and the sick helplessness of knowing the illicit price it all came at. And for a long time, he was able to stick to his word: since Sousuke took on most of the work with little more than a blink, insisting that he’d rather risk himself than see anyone else in the band hurt, Makoto was able to stay far away from the work he despised and resented so much.

Unsurprisingly though, having Sousuke as the primary dealer for the band could only work out so well and for so long. He was intimidating as all hell with his chilling stare and monstrous build, which meant no one would try to jump him or cut an unfair deal, but Sousuke’s particular breed of permanent scowling drove buyers away more often than attracting them. Six months into repayment, it had become clear to everyone that relying on Sousuke alone simply wasn’t going to be enough. Not only were his profits meager, but the emotional toll of dealing had left the bass player more distant than ever, putting a toxic strain on his romantic life too. Naturally, Rin refused to get involved with drugs after that, and Rei lacked the social skills to deal effectively. In the end, Makoto was the only one left suited for the job: people flocked to him naturally and trusted him easily.

Makoto remembered very little from the night he agreed to start dealing too, but he could never erase the memory of following a droplet trail of blood into Sousuke’s kitchen, only to find Rin sobbing at the table while quivering fingers bandaged his boyfriend’s bloodied and bruised hands. He could never swallow back down that nauseating sickness that rocked his core every time he remembered the contrast of white bone splitting through reddened, split skin, or forget the way Rin’s voice wobbled pathetically around Sousuke’s name each time he reprimanded him uselessly to be more careful. But most of all, Makoto would always remember catching from the corner of his eye, while he glared helplessly at the water-stained tile floor, the kiss that the two shared, desperate and relieved and so full of passion. How could he forget the tears that glinted on Rin’s cheeks as they trickled down, mingling with the fingers that clutched the redhead’s face so tenderly? How could he forget the one moment in his life that he _saw_ love, there, in the middle of a dimly lit kitchen still littered with unpacked cardboard boxes on the outskirts of Tokyo? A love that could move mountains and drain seas, a love that made Makoto’s chest ache with revered envy, that made him want to do anything in his power to protect a bond of such an overwhelming magnitude.

The very next night, Makoto sold his first gram of cocaine.

And for every gram after that, he pushed through, clinging to that memory as a solemn reminder of what it was all for. That he would protect them no matter what cost it came at.

Knowing the risks of having the face of the band dealing, they limited his nights selling and reserved his skills for the days when Sousuke desperately needed a break. Or, if a payment was coming up. Tonight, it was the latter. Somehow Nagisa had talked his way into a few extra days at the meeting earlier, but it came at a price: With a two percent interest increase as consequence, Makoto was their best and only option under the new circumstances to make up for the gap. He would have to sell his entire stock tonight just to cover the rest of this month’s payment alone. Nagisa usually did a pretty good job getting him set up with a few clients to start the night, but he’d have to make sure word got around to the right people- and fast- if he wanted to get rid of at least half of his supply.

Scrubbing at his face, a familiar mantra pounded mockingly in Makoto’s head.

_How the fuck did I end up here?_

Okay, so literally, the answer was pretty simple: a really stupid mistake. He knew that was the truth, and if he could go back and redo it all, he would. To save his friends from this all, to salvage his relationship with his family, to protect Haru. But would “sorry, it was an accident” really be enough? Would it make his family trust him again? Would it keep Haru from leaving the moment he found out that Makoto was slumped in back alleys after their shows with a pocket full of cocaine and a handgun at his hip? Would he forgive him for keeping it a secret this whole time, for doing everything in his power to protect Haru from it all for as long as he could?

God, how he wished that this could have all gone so differently.

Makoto was seeing blue by the time he ambled up to his dressing room door. He wanted nothing more than to lock himself in his hotel room with Haru snuggled into his side tonight, murmuring their affections for each other until kisses silenced all other thought for the evening. There would be no time for that fantasy though, and certainly no time for them to talk like Makoto had originally promised. Fuck, he’d have to find just a moment to apologize to Haru for that, or at least tell him that Nagisa needed his help with load out and he wouldn’t be leaving until late.

Just the thought of lying to him even more seized Makoto’s entire being with guilt. Could he even do it? Makoto twisted the door handle and pushed, shaking his head dismally. Just one look into those starlit sapphire eyes and he’d be a goner for sure-

“Oh shit,” he sputtered. Speak of the devil.

“Hi to you too,” a very confused Haru shot back, perched on the counter with his knees tucked up to his chest, his back pressed against the mirror. Next to him, a black contact case and a fresh water bottle sat innocently, unsuspectingly. “That’s not really the thrilled reaction I was expecting.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woah-ho-ho lets be totally honest I didn't even see that one coming like whaaaaaat
> 
> No okay I'll be real with you guys. This chapter has been the bane of my sad existence as a writer for the past howevermanymonths because i had no idea how you all would react. In case you don't remember, this fic had simply started out as a cutesy one-shot that I had no intention of developing or planning a full plot for. So how did it get here, you ask?  
> Well, I can't really tell you how the idea struck me, but I can say that after dating a band member and learning from him about what it takes to get your chance at fame (as a failed actor, I can say I'm quite familiar with this concept regardless lol), I felt a bit inspired by the challenges of being an artist today. For me, I thought the addition of organized crime and drug use to this fic would create a level of depth to the story as a whole and pose a real, actual challenge to Makoto and Haru's relationship, not to mention that it's a very common issue in the industry as well.  
> Long story short, things were too easy and I was worried that the readers would get bored.
> 
> I wanted to put something at stake for them. In acting class, directors would always ask us, "What is at stake for you? What happens if you don't get what you want right now? Are there consequences?" This helped us find motivation and urgency for a scene, which keeps the pace and influences every action to have a purpose. I tried to apply the same idea to writing. I wanted to create some kind of urgency between them. I wanted them to take a risk, which is also something directors told me to do quite often. 
> 
> So, I did the most cliche and possibly frustrating thing a fic writer can do and threw drug dealers and mobsters and deep, dark secrets into the mix of what was originally a fluffy "band au" (Now what should I call this au instead? I don't think there's a good name to fit all the drama going on here), and what are we left with? Well, certainly a lot of urgency I'd say. As Haru becomes more and more entwined with Makoto's personal life and career, it will only be a matter of time before he finds out the truth. Will he be able to overcome fear and betrayal for the sake of his relationship with Makoto, or will he realize he fell in love with the false image of a man after all? And what happens if the band can't pay off Purgatory and their dream fails? I'd be hesitant to assume that they'll be able to walk away from a deal with a notorious gang leader scot-free, even if they somehow manage to pay off their loan.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you all can look past the cliche's and maybe you'll stick around for future chapters. It will be slow going from here, but I'm hoping that now that this chapter isn't weighing on my mind so much anymore, my writing muse will return and I can get back to work on this fic! Thanks for your patience and for being such awesome readers. As usual, comments and kudos are what keep me alive <3


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